


Absolute Magnitude

by stonegirl77



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: AU in The Martian-verse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, PotatoShock, from a tumblr prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 20,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8925298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonegirl77/pseuds/stonegirl77
Summary: From @kira2127 on Tumblr: What if Darcy Lewis were Mark Watney's fiancée? What if Darcy Lewis had a much deeper relationship with NASA than any of the Avengers (even Jane) knew?Follows the events of The Martian, set a few years after CA: TWS in Avengers canon.





	1. Sol 6 (1)

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm going to go ahead and post the first few chapters of this - it's the tumblr plot bunny that I couldn't leave alone....
> 
> I hope you like it!

Darcy was having a good morning. The barista at her coffee shop - the one she went by every morning on her way to work - had given her extra caramel sauce with her macchiato, the sky was blue, and her lipstick, red, as always, was on point. Even the gruff security guards at Avengers Tower couldn’t get her down.

“If you’d step this way, please,” Itchy said, gesturing her through the metal detector - well, the thing that looked like a metal detector. Knowing Tony, the metal detector could not only detect all types of metal, but did a few better than the TSA in terms of actual security.

 _Perks of private industry,_ Darcy thought sardonically. She handed over her purse and laptop bag, to Itchy’s partner Twitchy, who was equally big, dour, and wearing the same atrociously cut suit. Twitchy ran her bags through the scanner, as he did, every morning, and Twitchy waited with her, as if she was about to go anywhere without her phone or her laptop. They had her msuic! _And the last time I let my iPod out of my possession, Barton kidnapped it in the name of SHIELD. So, please and no thank you._ So Darcy sipped the last of her now-cooling macchiato and waited for Twitchy to decide that there wasn’t anything too problematic in her bags.

“Here you go, ma’am,” Twitchy said, passing her back her bags. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Darcy said automatically, hefting the laptop bag over one shoulder and digging around in her purse to retrieve her phone. _Never hurts to be polite._

 

Three hours later, and Darcy’s patience was hanging on by a thread.

“No, Tony, you can’t say that the new Speaker of the House is an idiot on national TV,” she said slowly.

“Even if he is one?” Tony asked, flashing her the smile he used to charm people. Today, though, Darcy was immune. She scowled at him.

“Even then.” She sighed. “Politicians are the only people these days who still don’t trust the Avengers. They’re the people who aren’t on social media, who listen to traditional news sources above all else, and who don’t trust anything new until it’s been around at least ten years.”

“So they love Cap.” Tony’s face matched hers for sourness. He looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon.

“Even though they shouldn’t,” Darcy agreed. “You know he’s not as patriotic and prudish as he seems.”

Tony sighed. “I know.” Then he brightened. “But can’t I at least needle that asshole a little bit? You know what he does when his wife’s at the spa?”

“No, I don’t.” _It’s like dealing with a five year old._ “And I don’t want to.” Darcy waved her hand. “I’m sorry, Tony, but this is important. If we play nice with the Speaker, then maybe next time you save the world, Congress won’t try and pass an idiotic bill that tries to stop you. Again.”

“No guarantee?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Darcy sighed. “But I can guarantee that if you go in and piss him off, the next time you have to cause property damage - for the greater good, I know that - Congress will be debating the Superhero Power Act, part 2. And then you can go to T’Challa and see about pulling your ass out of the fire. Mmkay?”

Tony sighed, far louder than she had. “I hear and obey, oh fearless media maven,” he said. “You know the Great and Powerful Kittycat doesn’t like me much.”

“Maybe because you call him the Great and Powerful Kittycat,” Darcy snarked. “Maybe I’ll tell him, the next time he comes to visit.”

“You won’t,” Tony predicted. “Because if you do, I’ll tell Cap all of the various nicknames you and Foster have come up for him.”

“Tony!”

“Darcy!”

“Miss Lewis?” JARVIS asked, and if the AI could sound cautious, he would have.

“Yeah, J?”

“There’s a Mr. Kapoor on the line for you.”

“Venkat?” Darcy said, confused. Then her stomach shot through the floor all the way from the 42 floor to ground level. “Did he say what he wanted?” Her hand went to the necklace she was wearing, fingering the chain absently.

“Just to speak with you - apparently it’s urgent.”

“Ok,” Darcy said vacantly. “Tell him I’ll be online as soon as I get back to the office - I’m leaving now.”

“Lewis?” Tony sounded confused, maybe worried, but Darcy didn’t have time for him just then.

“Later, Tony,” she said. “Later.”

 


	2. Sol 6 (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments below!

“Hey, Stark - have you seen Darcy?” Jane Foster, Ph.D, D. Phil, poked her head around Tony’s lab door.

“What, Shortstack?” Tony frowned. “I haven’t seen her - she went to speak to someone.” Tony’s frown grew. “A few hours ago. She should be back. JARVIS, who was Darcy talking to?”

“A Mr. Venkat Kapoor,” JARVIS replied. “He is the Director of the Mars Mission at NASA.”

“Oh shit.” Tony watched as Jane’s face grew even whiter. “JARVIS, where’s Darcy?”

“Miss Lewis is in her office.” Jane spun and started to dash down the hallway. “She has been there since speaking with Director Kapoor.” Tony took a look at the reactor housing in his hand, then started to jog after the tiny scientist, pelting questions at her as he ran.

“Foster? What’s up? Why is the guy running the Ares missions calling Darcy?”

“Probably because something’s wrong,” Jane half-panted as she sprinted down the last hallway and skidding to a halt outside Darcy’s door. She stood there, listening, then knocked, two gentle raps. “Darcy? It’s Jane. Can I come in?”

No reply.

“Darcy, it’s me. Tony said you’d been talking to Venk?” What sounded suspiciously like a sob came from behind the door, and Jane’s shoulders squared. “I’m coming in.” Jane tried the doorknob, then tried again.

“J, unlock the door,” Tony said, worry growing as he heard another sob come from behind the door. This one sounded different - as if someone was trying to hide the sound - crying into a sleeve, perhaps. The latch clicked, and Jane’s weight on the door practically dumped her onto the floor inside Darcy’s office.

“Oh Darce,” Jane breathed, then was across the room to kneel beside an obviously crying Darcy, pulling the girl into her arms and trying to soothe her. Tony followed more slowly, trying not to upset Darcy any more. For all the shit he gave her, the girl saved their butts on a weekly basis. Not to mention she was part of the team - part of the family. Seeing her crying into Foster’s shoulder on the floor of her office set his gut churning. What had happened? He pulled out his Starkphone and started inputting commands, getting JARVIS to search anything related to Venkat Kapoor and the latest Ares mission, especially in connection with one Darcy Lewis.

“What’s wrong?” Jane was asking as he searched. “What did Venk say? Did something happen to -“

“He’s dead,” Darcy said, voice quavering. “There was a storm, and the MAV, and he’s dead - they left him on Mars, and he’s dead!” Fresh tears tracked onto her cheeks, and Jane’s grip tightened on her friend. She glanced up at Tony.

‘Later,’ she mouthed. Tony nodded, and left, scrolling through JARVIS’ search results as he went.

‘Incident Report - Sol 6,’ he read.

_Who does Darcy know on Mars?_


	3. Sol 6 (3)

Darcy was numb.

Or at least, she thought she was numb. It was either that, or accept that everything hurt, from her eyes to her head to the whole that had been ripped into her chest. Turns out heartbreak wasn’t just a metaphor.

“Miss Lewis?” That was JARVIS. Jane looked at the ceiling with a scowl.

“Not now, J,” she said.

“No,” Darcy said. Or tried to say. It came out as more of a croak. “No,” she tried again, this time coming out with an intelligible word. “What’s up, J?”

“There is a Mrs. Watney on the phone for you.” Darcy let out a noise at the name, probably one best classified as a whimper. But then she nodded, assembling what little she had left of any emotional strength.

“I guess I’d better talk to her,” she said, and pushed up off the floor, half-stumbling as her vision went all blurry. _Not surprising, as you’re probably dehydrated, and it’s probably long past lunch._

_Not that that matters much. Not now._

“Darce - is that-“

“She’s his mom,” Darcy said firmly. “If she wants to talk to me, I’m gonna listen.” Darcy walked over to her office chair and sat, pulling up her StarkTab. “Put it on my screen, please, J.”

Twitter blurred for a second, then Caroline Watney appeared. She looked just as rough as Darcy felt, all red eyes and dull expression.

“Hello, dear,” she said, and Darcy had to work to not break down again. “I suppose you’ve heard.”

“Venkat called me,” Darcy said.

“We got a visit from Mr. Saunders,” Caroline said. “How’re you-“ She stopped, put a hand over her mouth, closed her eyes, then started again. “I won’t ask how you’re doing,” she said instead. “Just - do you need us? Want us to come to New York? You’re welcome to come to Chicago - stay with us, if you want.”

“Oh, Mrs. W,” Darcy protested.

“Caroline,” the woman said, a half smile rising, then falling from her features. “Remember?”

“Caroline,” Darcy repeated obediently. “I -“ She looked out the window, at the buildings filled with people, people just going about their day, unaware. “I’ll let you know,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She felt a few tears spill down her cheeks, and wiped them away swiftly.

“Oh, honey.” Caroline’s eyes were similarly bright. “So’m I. Just - if you want to talk, if you need anything, you call us, y’hear?” Darcy nodded. “Even if….” Here they both took a minute. “You’re still our almost-daughter in law, ok?” Darcy nodded more firmly, not able to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

“Thanks Caroline,” she said. “I - I’ll call you, when - I’ll call.”

“Take care.” And Caroline shut off the connection. Darcy set the tablet down before bending over it, shoulders shaking as she cried. Again.

Part of her was starting to get resentful at the sheer quantity of tears she was shedding today. _Isn’t there supposed to be some finite amount you can cry in a day?_ Even as she thought it, she felt immediately guilty.

 _He’s dead._ The knowledge spun round and round in her head, the thing she wanted to say again and again, as if saying it again would make it less true. _I can’t believe he’s dead._

_Mark._


	4. Sol 6 (4)

“What’s going on?” Steve asked. “Tony? Why are we here?”

“Just a sec,” Stark answered distractedly. “We’re waiting for Shortstack to get here - Foster managed to get some food in her, finally.”

“Doesn’t it usually work the other way around?” Sam asked with a smile, which rapidly vanished as he processed Tony’s lack of humour.

“Not today,” Tony just sighed. “Not today. Hey, Lewis!” he jumped off the couch arm he’d been sitting on as Darcy and Foster came in. She looked better, Tony thought. She’d washed off the makeup, and she looked less… distraught. _Not more alive, though._ If anything, Darcy looked a bit like the walking dead. “Come on, sit here.” He put a hand on the small of her back and guided her to his armchair - the most comfortable seat in the room. As it should be.

“Are you gonna tell them?” she asked dully.

“I - “ Tony said, taken aback by her tone - the apathy. It wasn’t like her. _Not that she should be anywhere near normal, right now._ “Unless you wanna.”

“No, you do it,” she said, putting her head in her hands. “I’ll let you know if you screw something up.”

“You always do,” Tony replied, trying to restore some of the levity. Darcy glanced up at him, and his heart broke for her, watching her try and smile up at him.

“Here, Darce,” Foster said, bustling over with a Gatorade. “Drink up - you’re still dehydrated.”

Tony could feel the others watching - Sam and Steve on the couch, Barton and Romanov staring from the coffee table and standing against the window, respectively. “Let’s get started,” he said, clapping his hands together. He pulled up a holoscreen, and JARVIS started projecting images in time with his words.

“As you may or may not know,” Tony began with a significant look at Steve, who shot him the bird with a smile, then immediately got back to Serious Mode. “NASA has been sending people to Mars for approximately 13 years now. The latest mission is Ares 3. Commander Lewis, Martinez, Johanssen, Beck, Vogel, and Mark Watney.” Darcy drew in a breath, and Tony put a hand on her shoulder. “Lewis and Martinez are both military, Johanssen’s their tech weenie, Beck’s the doc, and Vogel and Watney are the researchers.” Something in Tony winced at the use of present tense, but he couldn’t bring himself to use the past. “Today was Sol 6 - the sixth day of their mission. Something went wrong.

“There was a storm - stronger than NASA expected, and the MAV - the rocket that takes the astronauts from Mars to the Hermes, began to tip. If it tips too far, it can’t get to orbit anymore, so NASA scrubbed the mission. Winds were strong, stuff was blowing everywhere, and”

“Mark got hit,” Darcy said woodenly. Tony stopped in shock, but Darcy kept going. “They think something in the comms array hit him, and Lewis and the crew couldn’t find him. He’s dead, on Mars. They’ll probably send Ares 4 to look for his body.” A single tear streaked down her cheek.

“What does this have to do with us?” Barton asked. “I mean, yeah, it really sucks for Watney and his family-“ Barton stopped with an oof as Natasha’s shoe landed on his middle.

“Mark is - _was_ \- my fiancé,” Darcy said softly. She started twisting something on her left hand, and Tony noticed a ring he’d never seen before on her ring finger. It was a garnet with a diamond on either side, flickering in the light as Darcy twisted it back and forth. “I heard from Venkat Kapoor - he’s part of NASA - today.”

There was a general wordless murmur of denial. Steve was the first up and kneeling in front of Darcy. She looked into his face, then crumpled into his shoulder as he hugged her. Widow was there next, putting her arms around both of them and whispering into Darcy’s ear, who listened, then nodded. 

“What else do we know?” Barton asked, coming over to talk to Tony. 

“Lewis almost got herself and her crew stranded trying to find Watney,” Tony said softly. “The MAV was tipping - almost 14 degrees - while they were waiting for Lewis and Johanssen to search - Martinez did something with the thrusters to tip it back upright. Not that it helped Watney.”

“Shit.” The archer looked at the pictures JARVIS was still projecting. 

Tony nodded. “They’ll be back in just over a year,” he said. 

“How’d we not know?” Barton asked. 

Tony shrugged. “She doesn’t have to tell us everything. I hadn’t seen the ring until today.”

Barton nodded. “Noticed that.” He looked at Nat, caught her eye, and then proceeded to have the kind of wordless conversation with her that drove Tony nuts. “We’ll be back,” he said. “See what else we can dig up.” He grimaced. “Although I dunno what else we can do.”

Tony nodded. The not being able to do anything to help was starting to drive him nuts too. He gave himself a week before he was trying to design Lewis an Iron Man suit of her very own. 

“Good luck.” Barton sketched him a wonky salute, then vanished noiselessly, following Widow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this far, let me know what you think in the comments! (Does this story make sense without having read The Martian? I'm trying to make it somewhat intelligible...)
> 
> As to updates: I'm probably looking at weekly for this - a new chapter every Tuesday - and I'll do my best to keep to that schedule. But this is looking rather complicated, and I'm not as confident pants-ing this one as I've done my other super-long stories... I'll do my best. (And comments make me write faster)
> 
> Also - I'm looking for a beta for this, so if you're interested, let me know!


	5. Flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm absolutely floored by the amount of kudos and comments this story's received so far. THANK YOU!! 
> 
> Here's the next chapter - hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think in the comments below, if you feel so inclined!

“All right, everybody, welcome to the discussion section for Botany 101,” the TA said. He had sandy hair and an ease that Darcy, already three years into adulthood, college, and the knowledge that she knew nothing, could only envy. “God only knows why you took this class, but let’s get started, shall we?” A general chuckle. More than a little fawning by the freshmen girls in the front row. Darcy, hidden behind her laptop a few rows behind, couldn’t disagree with their admiration, although she’d grown out of showing it so obviously. _Mostly._

“My name’s Mark Watney, and I’m a PhD candidate under Professor Walsh. I’m going to be the one grading your smaller assignments, as well as your point man for any questions you might have.” He grinned, and Darcy felt her lips twitch in response. _Bad Lewis. Bad. No getting a crush on your TA! That never ends well._ “Let’s start out by introducing ourselves - name, major, why you’re in this class, and favourite superhero. If you don’t have one, shame on you. Choose a favourite character, then. I’ll go first.” Watney leaned on his desk. “I’m Mark, but you knew that already. My major in undergrad was bio, and obviously, I’m here because I’m getting paid the big bucks.” Another chuckle. “My favourite superhero…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment. “Poison Ivy.” This time, there was a groan, and Darcy raised her hand.

_Time to test the TA._

“Yes?” Watney pointed at her.

“Isn’t Poison Ivy a villain?” she asked with her best innocent expression. Watney’s face blanked, then split into another grin.

“Every villain is a hero in their own mind,” he said sagely. “Besides. Villains are more fun. Miss -“

“Darcy,” she said, satisfied with the answer. “Darcy Lewis.”

“Wanna get the ball rolling for us, Darcy Lewis?” Watney asked, and Darcy’s heart sank as she noticed exactly how handsome her TA was, especially when he had all of his attention on her.

_I am so screwed._

 

…

“You never told me,” Mark said, offering her one of the coffees.

“I never told you what?” Darcy asked, holding the paper cup between both hands for warmth. “Thank you.”

“You never told me why you picked Selena Kyle as your favourite superhero.”

“Catwoman -“ Darcy searched her brain, then grinned in surprise. “The first day of class, right?” Mark nodded.

“So. Catwoman.”

Darcy blushed. “Actually, it was mostly because my extremely attractive TA had just picked another Batman villain, and she was the one that sprung to mind,” she admitted. Mark barked a laugh. “Although I stand by my choice. Catwoman is awesome. And she ends up teaming up with Bruce Wayne more often than not.”

“He’s a billionaire playboy - what’s not to like?”

“Who also helps save Gotham on a regular basis,” Darcy put in. “I mean, Tony Stark’s a billionaire playboy. You wouldn’t find me dating him.” Darcy replayed what she’d said, and started to kick herself.

“What about ex-TAs?” Mark asked playfully. Darcy glanced sideways up at him, wrapped up in his Cubs beanie, holding his coffee in both hands, as she was.

“Oh, I like those,” she said simply. “Especially when they buy me coffee.” She had time to watch Mark’s face light into a grin before she started off in the direction of the science building once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to the lovely Alexandra926, who is now the beta for this shindig (for her sins!)


	6. Sol 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy... isn't doing well.

 

“You need to take a break,” Jane said, and Darcy laughed in her face. 

So many things had changed since Mark’s death -  _ Mark’s dead, Mark’s dead, Mark’s dead _ \- and the biggest surprise, at least to Darcy, was how little control she had over her temper.

“When have you ever taken a break?” she asked her friend, going straight for the jugular. “When Thor left, you worked for fifty hours straight. Then collapsed for ten, and worked some more. When the Dark Elves invaded, you coped by helping SHIELD identify the wreckage. Again.  Eighteen-hour days fueled by Jaffa Cakes and Red Bull because London doesn’t quite understand the meaning of ‘Open twenty-four hours a day.’ You’re the  _ last  _ person who should ever lecture me about being a workaholic.”

Jane’s mouth hung open - a bit like a carp, really. Darcy hoped that she’d shut her up. A small part of her felt guilty at the way she’d spoken to the woman who was her best friend, boss, and the sister she’d never had. Most of her, though, was unapologetic. 

_ It’s my grieving party, and I can work if I want to.  _

_ Even if I have to take a break every now and then to sob my eyes out. Waterproof mascara is truly the work of the gods.  _

_ But damn it. If I didn’t have this - didn’t have work to come to, why would I drag myself out of bed in the morning? I’d be lying in a pile of snotty tissues, watching endless Friends re-runs, thinking about things I really shouldn’t be. And Mark wouldn’t like that.  _

_ \- Mark’s dead, Mark’s dead. - _

_ So. Work. _

“We’re worried, Darce.” Jane said, and Darcy did her best to hide a sigh.

_ So I didn’t manage to shut her up, then.  _

“You don’t sleep - you barely eat - if I got like that, you’d be yelling at me to rest, too, and you know it!” Jane placed her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to do this, but… I’ll call Mark’s parents if I have to.”

“Jane.” She couldn’t -  _ wouldn’t _ \- weren’t Bert and Caroline going through enough without having to worry about Darcy? How could Jane even think of worrying them more? But, staring into Jane’s face, recognising the expression she’d worn while confronting SHIELD agents taking their equipment, the same expression she’d worn while absolutely refusing Fury’s offer to work for SHIELD, Darcy realised she’d have to give her best friend something.

“I have no shame, you know this,” Jane said flatly. “Believe me. If it gets you to go to sleep, to eat, to rest, I’ll do it.”

“Fine.” Darcy turned off her tablet. “There wasn’t much more to do tonight anyway.”  _ Funny how your email backlog gets less when you start working sixteen-hour days. _ “But I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Okay,” Jane said easily, and Darcy was immediately suspicious. “Let’s get you something to eat then. What do you want?”

“You aren’t gonna spike my drink, are you?” Darcy asked. 

“I wouldn’t,” Jane protested, but something in her expression was off. 

“You wouldn’t, but Stark would,” Darcy grumbled. “And I bet Steve would help.” She made a face. “Is it just me, or are those two getting oddly close lately?”

“It’s not just you,” Jane said, sidling closer. “I’ll tell you about what they’ve been doing over pizza, okay?”

“Okay,” Darcy acceded. “Margaritas? From that place around the corner?”

“As if I haven’t known your boring-ass pizza preferences since the first week you were my intern.” Jane pulled Darcy out of her chair and out of the office.

Out of the office, and into the common room, where Steve was opening the last of what appeared to be a dozen pizza boxes. 

“Darcy!” he said, leaning over the counter to grab a pizza box, then offering it to her. “Your pizza.”

Darcy accepted the box, the smell of cheese, dough, and sauce making her stomach suddenly growl. In that moment, Darcy remembered exactly when she’d had her last real meal. That morning, on her way to work. A muffin, at 6am. No wonder her dresses were so loose. 

_ Shit. I really am taking crap care of myself. Damn it.  _

_ Mark would hate that. _

_ -Mark’s dead, Mark’s dead, Mark’s dead!- _

“Shortstack!” A hand landed on her shoulder, and Darcy found a wan smile to give to Stark. “Glad to see you!” He glanced over at Jane. “You told her, yet?”

Jane glared at him. “It was hard enough to get her to eat, Tony.”

“Tell me what?” Darcy asked, still standing in the middle of the room, holding a box of untouched pizza. 

“You’re booked on a Starkjet to Chicago tomorrow.” Stark held up a hand before she could protest. “Before you start to complain, the Watneys suggested it. They said something about misery loving company. Or some shit like that.”

“But work-“ she tried.

“You can do anything you need to online,” Tony said with a casual wave. “And besides. The Avengers survived without a PR manager before; we can do it again.” 

Darcy was ready to protest, had five different arguments with varying degrees of probable success on her tongue, then, suddenly, deflated.

“He’d want me to go, wouldn’t he?” she half-whispered.

“What?” Tony looked to Jane, confused.

Darcy put her head in her hands, fighting off tears for about the billionth time that day. A pair of arms crept around her shoulders - small - Jane’s. 

“Mark would have wanted you to go?” Jane asked hesitantly. 

_ Well, this makes a change from you acting all dictatorial, _ Darcy thought sardonically, even though she knew she wasn’t being fair.

But the whole thing wasn’t fair! It wasn’t  _ fair _ ! They’d made it through Darcy’s waffling in grad school, through Mark’s time at the ACS, through two big alien invasions and countless smaller disasters. Through Project Insight, and Mark was supposed to come home and they were supposed get married. And they’d get a dog. And they’d move into some adorable walk-up in the city, probably next to Barton up in Bed-Stuy!

And then Mark had to get himself killed on Mars! He hadn’t even been there a week! Sol 6, for crying out loud!

And now there wouldn’t be any wedding. Or living until they were old, grey, and crotchety. No kids, no dog. No place in Bed-Stuy.

Not fair. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Darcy grumbled, instead of saying any of that. She lifted her head and looked at Tony, who was doing his best confused puppy impression. “No, Stark, you don’t get to act confused. You and Jane were sharing an ‘I can’t believe she’s gonna spend the rest of her life living the way her dead fiancé would have wanted - how sad is that’ look.” She looked at Jane. “I know it’s pathetic. But it’s the only thing keeping me together right now, so I’m using it. Ok?”

Jane just nodded. 

“And I’ll be on that damned plane tomorrow,” Darcy continued. “If Bert and Caroline want me in Chicago, the least I can do is come.” She glared at Tony. “And I’ll work while I’m gone. Telecommuting is a thing now, you know.”

“Whatever you want, Shortstack,” Tony said, ruffling her hair. “Whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge shoutout to Alexandra926, my fabulous beta!


	7. Sol 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy goes to Chicago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late - it's all my fault - I was working. And traveling. And caught a cold. 
> 
> Also, apologies for any formatting - I'm working from my tablet here, and I'm pretty certain the copy/paste isn't quite working how I want. I'll post a better version once I have my laptop back.
> 
> As always, endless thanks go to Alexandra926, my most awesome of betas!

Darcy wasn’t driving to the Watney’s house.   
No. She had a car. With a driver.  
 _Stark_. At this point, it wasn’t even an expletive any more. She was too tired for that. Not that she could sleep. Not that she had been able to slept since her alarm had gone off at 5:30 that morning. Nerves scrambled with the tiredness in her gut, making her reconsider, again, the doubleshot latte she had in her hand.   
The car turned into a familiar driveway, and Darcy’s stomach finally stopped roiling and instead congealed into a solid mass just below her ribcage.   
“We’re here, Miss,” the driver - his name was something beginning with an E, something old fashioned - Edgar, Edmund, no, Emmanuel - said.   
“Thanks,” Darcy said, realising as she heard the gravel in her voice that she hadn't said much of anything since she’d arrived at O’Hare.   
“No problem,” Emmanuel said, getting out of the car and coming around to open Darcy’s door. “Call me anytime - Mr. Stark has me booked for the remainder of your stay.”  
“But I don't know how long I’ll be staying,” Darcy protested.   
Emmanuel just looked at her. “As long as you’re in Chicago,” he repeated.   
Darcy looked at his expression, thought back to Tony's intransigence when she'd tried to insist on paying for the flight, then sighed.  
"Thank you," she said, climbing out of the car. What else was there to say?  
"No need to thank me, ma’am,” he said, closing the door smoothly behind her. "Is there anything else you need?"  
Day tugged on her scarf absently, adjusting it upwards for the Chicago chill, attention suddenly fixed on the house just steps away.  
“No, thank you.”   
She was only tangentially aware of Emmanuel getting her suitcase out of the trunk of the car as she stared. Bert must have repainted the shutters, she thought absently. I don’t remember them being grey. Then the sound of the car pulling away made her turn and give Emmanuel one last wave before she started trudging towards the front door.  
She’d barely alighted on the porch when the door opened and Caroline Watney flew out of it.  
“Darcy!”  
Before Darcy could let go of her suitcase, let alone say hello, she was enveloped in a Caroline Watney-Special. _Even though she’s all of five foot nothing_ , Darcy could practically hear Mark saying in her ear, _she hugs like a mama bear._  
“It is so good to see you, sweetie,” Caroline was saying as Darcy tried to tactfully get air back into her lungs. “It was so nice of your friend Anthony to send you over - you know he called us?”  
“Tony called you?” Darcy asked, shocked into sudden speech.   
“Of course he did.” Caroline patted Darcy on the shoulder and shepherded her into the house. “They were worried about you, dear.” Caroline kept talking, but Darcy, try as she might, couldn’t pay attention.   
Instead, her attention was tugged in fifty different directions at once. The smell of the house, equal parts Pine Sol and wood smoke from their fireplace - remembering Mark, dressed in only a t-shirt in the dead of winter, chopping up more firewood on a trip home - seeing familiar pictures lining the walls. Mark at the graduation for his doctorate - she was the one taking that picture, the one where he had his arms around his parents. Mark and Bert, when Mark was still in high school, off camping somewhere. Mark as a cute-as-a-button five year old, staring up at the camera with a wide grin.   
Her gaze lingered on an image she didn’t recognise. It was Mark - of course - but it was her too, draped across the sofa that was probably still sitting in the living room, right next to the fireplace. She was asleep in his arms, head pillowed on his shoulder, hair everywhere.   
And Mark? Was awake. Unaware or uncaring of the photographer’s presence, he was staring at her in the picture, in that way Darcy still couldn’t believe had ever happened to her. Smiling that same small smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle and just the corners of his mouth tilt upwards. The one that said he was looking at his entire world, and was pretty well satisfied with life, the universe, and everything.   
Darcy stared.  
And then her arm was tugged, and reality re-inserted itself.   
_Mark’s dead. He’s dead. The man that looked at me like that. He’s gone._  
Darcy’s vision swam with tears which she blinked away as quickly as she could.  
“Oh.” She felt Caroline step next to her. “I put that one up since the last time you were here.” Darcy just kept staring, tracing Mark’s face with invisible fingers. “Bert took that one - it was the night before Mark proposed.”  
Darcy let out a sound - she wasn’t sure whether it was a sob, or an aborted laugh. “I like it,” she said softly. Any louder, and she was certain her voice would break. And she was tired of crying.  
Caroline was still talking. “I can get you a copy, if you want.” Caroline’s voice was softer than usual, too. Sad. Darcy curled into the older woman, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.  
“I’d like that,” she said. “Thanks, Caroline.”  
Caroline sniffed, then straightened. “Now I know I’ve told you to call me Mom before,” she said firmly. “No matter - I mean… in spite of…” she trailed off. “You’re still our girl, ok?” she said, looking up at Darcy. “No matter what. Don’t you forget it.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” Darcy said, giving Caroline a hug of her own.   
Caroline chuckled. “Now get in here,” she said, moving towards the kitchen. “Bert’s here - he wants to see his daughter in law too.”  
Darcy was ready to protest. That she wasn’t their daughter in law yet - that she’d never be their daughter in law. But then she looked at Caroline, at the picture of her and Mark on the couch, and back at her almost-future mother in law.   
“Ok,” she said at last. “Let’s go see Bert.”


	8. Sol 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark writes to Darcy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thousands of apologies for taking this long to update! Life... kind of got in the way of writing. But I'm set for a month now, so I should be able to post regularly again!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads this, to you who left comments or kudos, you are all awesome!

Hi Darcy,

Sorry I didn’t write last week, what with almost dying and all. 

Not that you’ll be able to pick this up until the next Ares mission, anyway. But I said I’d write, so here I am. Writing. 

I hate to say it, princess, but you were wrong about botany. Not only is it the greatest science of all, but it’s going to save my life. That, and my own shit.

Let me explain.

No. It is too much. Let me sum up.

And before you start pelting me with pillows for the Princess Bride quotation…

To survive until Ares 4, or have a shot at it, anyway, I’m going to need more food. And to make more food, I’m - you guessed it! - going to farm. Farm what, you ask? Isn’t Mars supposed to lifeless and inhospitable to plant life?

Well, yes. It is. But I’ve got a way to enrich the soil so that I can plant stuff, and it should grow. I hope. And the answer to that is shit. 

My shit, to be exact. You see, the toilets on Mars bundle everything up into these little foil packages which usually wind up in a biohazard box outside the Hab. Right now, though, those packages are opened, combined with my own, more recent shit, and some water. And bacteria. Which are going to fertilise the dead Martian soil and keep yours truly alive. Sure, it stinks, but hey, that’s science! 

After all, I’ve got a wedding to get back to. 

So, long story short; botany is the best, and I am the best botanist on Mars. So there! Thor can take his quantum physics and shove it where the Bifrost does not shine. Does the Bifrost shine? Or does it just reflect light? You’ll have to ask him for me.

You know, I think you’d like it here on Mars. Lotsa sand, not too humid. Kinda like Puente Antigo. Without the Asgardians and metal monstrosities. Without any pet stores, though. That’s a definite disadvantage.

I’ve been thinking about what people are saying on Earth. Remember when you said that I was the guy who’d be late for his own funeral? I’m guessing that’ll be true. They’ve probably declared me dead by now. 

Just so you know - it wasn’t the Commander’s fault. Or Martinez’s. Or anyone else’s. It was just one of those things. One of those shitty fucking things.   
But I’m going to be on this planet long enough to get residency, I figure, so now you too can claim to be dating an extraterrestrial. You’re even gonna marry one! Tell Jane she can bite you, next time she needles you about it. 

Commander Lewis’ latest disco playlist just stopped playing, so I’m gonna go and restart it. I’m gonna know every single ABBA song by heart by the time I get off this planet.

Love ya, princess,

Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my thanks go to alexandra926, the fabulous and patient. (And if you aren't reading her stuff, go check it out!)


	9. Sol 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say thank you before anyone launches into the chapter - thank you, for the kudos and the comments! They make my day every time, and I'm so happy that other people like this story as much as we do!

It was … weird, being back in Chicago without Mark, Darcy decided as she walked around the farmer’s market with Bert. 

It was strange to be here without Mark, without his arm to hang onto, without him pointing out flowers with interesting Latin names, or strange stories about the domestication of this vegetable or that. 

It was strange to be here. But as long as she didn’t think of the fact that every farmer’s market from now on was going to be strange, Darcy was fine. 

Totally fine. 

“I was going to throw a couple steaks on the grill, Darcy-girl,” Bert said. “That okay with you?” Darcy nodded. Bert looked to his right, at the vegetable stand Darcy had been avoiding. “I wish Caroline had come with us today.”

Darcy didn’t say anything. 

“You know - getting out of the house. It’s the only time-“ He broke off, and Darcy put a hand on his arm in sympathy. Too many conversations had ended that way already among the three of them. Sentences that became too difficult halfway through. Subjects that brought up memories and suddenly all they could think about was the person who was missing, never to return. 

They kept walking in silence, Darcy’s hand slipping from Bert’s arm as they moved. _This is insane,_ Darcy thought, looking at a particularly colourful flower stand.  _How did we think this was a good idea? Not just the farmer’s market, but coming to Chicago. How can this be good for us? When every other sentence someone says something that makes the others think of Mark._

_Not that I don’t want to think of Mark._

_Not when that’s what I have left of him._

_But it hurts._

“So,” Darcy said, shaking off her black mood as much as she could and forcing cheer into her voice. “What green stuff are we bringing back for dinner?”

“I thought we’d just hit the bakery down this aisle,” Bert said blithely, a bit of the joker that was so prominent in his son shining to the fore, just for an instant. 

“Vegetables first,” Darcy said, her inner scientist wrangler taking over. “Then baked goods.”

“If you insist,” Bert said, and allowed her to drag him over to one of the farm stalls that had a variety of all things green.

 

 

 

..................................

 

“Honey, we’re home,” Bert called as he pushed the door open with a hip, and Darcy’s throat grew suddenly tight. _I’ll never say that to Mark again. He’ll never say it to me._

“I’m in the kitchen,” Caroline called back. “And we’ve got company!”

“Company?” Darcy asked as she and Bert made their way into the kitchen, both laden with bags full of produce. 

“Hey, kiddo,” a familiar voice said, and Darcy quickly swung her bags onto the kitchen counter, getting her arms free. 

“You didn’t say you were coming!” she said, walking straight into Clint Barton’s waiting arms. 

“Laura’s sister’s at the farm helping watch the kids,” he said. “And Tony figured you could use some moral support.” Darcy didn’t say anything, burying her face into Clint’s shoulder and wrapping her arms more firmly around his middle. 

“We’ll leave you to catch up,” Darcy heard Caroline say in the background as footsteps retreated to the back porch. 

“When did you get here?” Darcy asked finally, letting Clint go. And if his black shirt was a bit damp where her face had rested, neither of them mentioned it. 

Clint glanced at the clock. “About an hour ago.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Mrs. Watney seems nice.”

“She is,” Darcy said. “Bert too.” She swallowed hard, then continued with what she’d been about to say. “Would have made great in-laws.”

On the table, her phone buzzed, and Darcy glanced at it, grateful for the distraction. 

**Robert Lewis.**

She made a face, then turned back to Clint, ignoring the phone. 

“You aren’t gonna get that?” Clint asked neutrally. 

Darcy’s frown deepened. “I wouldn’t know what to say,” she said, sounding whiny and judging herself even as she vented. “I mean, what could I say - good job on not losing your other half, because I just did, and hey, congrats on actually having married Melissa before she shipped out, because _we_ opted to wait until Ares 3 was home, and look how that’s working out for us? I’m glad she’s not dead, but I’d swap with you in a heartbeat? Because we both know that I’d rather be the Lewis with the guilt about still having a partner rather than the Lewis that lost one.” She looked at the phone, silent once more, sitting on the table. “He’s been calling a few times a day. I haven’t picked up yet.”

“Darce.” She kept looking at the phone. “He’s family. You’ll regret shutting him out, I promise.”

Darcy had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but actually bit it to stop herself from speaking. No matter what, Clint didn’t need her bringing Barney into it. Barney Barton was bad enough news all on his own. 

“Next time he calls, at least think about answering?” Clint asked, and Darcy glanced at his face. 

Mistake.

“Ugh. Fine.” She picked up her phone and pocketed it. “You and your damned puppy dog eyes, Barton.” Clint patted her on the shoulder. 

“You’ll be okay, Darcy.”

Darcy froze for a second, then sighed. “I hope so.” Suddenly the room was too small, Clint too close, and the entire world too big without Mark in it. So she did what she did best - deflected. “Are you flying me back to the tower tomorrow?” she asked hopefully. Not that she was spoiled, riding on Quinjets and Pepper’s Lear, or anything. Flying commercial just sucked. 

“Yep.” Clint smirked. “Tony’s been bitching about having to update his own Instagram the last couple of days, and he and Cap have been bitching about proper social media etiquette. Again.”

“Do you even have an Instagram?” Darcy asked rhetorically, fishing in her pocket for her phone and opening the relevant app. “See, look at this.” She’d pulled up the picture Tony had posted yesterday. It was a selfie - his face in the lower right hand corner. Behind him, though, were Steve and Bucky standing in front of the giant TV in the common room, faces concentrated, playing DDR. Steve’s arm was out, hips to one side in the classic disco move, Bucky half a beat behind him, metal arm still pointed somewhere near his shoulder. Below the picture, the text read:

“While the cat’s away, the mice will play - and we’ve got some scary mice! Missing our fave PR manager, who’d better get her butt back here soon, otherwise her DDR record is going DOWN!!”

Clint, reading over her shoulder, started cackling. “Is that the Pride shirt Steve is wearing?” 

Darcy squinted at the screen. “No - I think it’s the ‘My Favourite Avenger is Poptarts’ shirt.” That one had been Thor’s idea. Obviously. When the god had discovered that not only were mental illnesses badly treated, misdiagnosed, but also stigmatised, he’d been… angry. Almost throwing Mjolnir out of the Tower angry. 

It had taken all of Jane and Darcy’s persuasive powers to get him to switch his efforts into a more useful form. Public statements, new hashtags, and the t-shirt, which, for all of Darcy’s efforts, still had absolutely nothing to do with mental illness. And Thor had gone back to Asgard for a month in hopes of finding medical research to aid Earth’s doctors. 

Of course, while he was there, Odin had corralled him into saving the universe. But that was a separate issue. 

_I’m not going to be the asshole that calls Thor back from saving the universe just so that I can get Mark’s body back from Mars,_ Darcy reminded herself for the umpteenth time.  A _ssuming Odin, Asshole of Asgard, would let me contact Thor in the first place._

Darcy frowned as she put away the green beans. 

“So, you all set to get back to the big city tomorrow?” Clint asked, sliding soundlessly next to her to put an eggplant next to the green beans. 

Darcy considered that, closing the fridge as she did so. Finally, she nodded. “I love Caroline and Bert,” she said. “But New York is home.” She looked around the kitchen. “And besides. Everything here reminds me of Mark - and seeing me reminds them of him too, which, I know, I can’t help,” she continued as Clint looked set to interrupt. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Tony was right to send me away - I needed the time, needed to see them. But,” Darcy glanced out of the kitchen window at where Caroline and Bert were talking, heads together. “It’s time for me to head back to New York. The funeral will be in a week or so. I’ll see them then.”

“And,” she said, swallowing hard before making herself say the last sentence,  “Mark wouldn’t have wanted me to wallow.”

“Let’s get you back home, then,” Clint said, fishing out the steak. “But first - these look delicious!”

Darcy just chuckled and started looking for the charcoal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks go to the amazing Alexandra926 - and if you're not reading her "Blue Horizon" Mark Watney/Mindy Park fic, you ought to take a look!


	10. Sol 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on for Darcy Lewis....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter!  
> Hope you enjoy!

“Miss Lewis! Miss Lewis!” The press corps was a shouting her name. In another universe, Darcy thought she might have enjoyed it. Hell, in this universe she might have enjoyed it, if they weren’t trying to get her attention just to get her to elaborate on something she really didn’t want to elaborate on.

 

 _That’s the job,_ she thought, and pasted her best media smile onto her face, pointing at a reporter.

 

“Miss Lewis, New York Post,” the guy began, holding his phone out so he could capture his question and her response on tape. _Is it on tape if it’s just random ones and zeroes?_ Darcy wondered, then grabbed her mind and pulled it back towards the job at hand. “Can you comment on the ongoing relief efforts in Lagos and the allegations of money going to corrupt government officials?”

 

Darcy sighed inwardly - this was a repeat question. But if the Post wanted their scoop, so be it.

 

“As you know,” she began, looking at the reporter, then at the video cameras scattered around the lobby of the Tower, “Mr. Stark and the Avengers have been giving both financial aid and bodies on the ground to help those who were injured or lost property during the attempted capture of ex-HYDRA agent and current mercenary Brock Rumlow.” _And I’m glad he’s dead,_ she thought savagely. _Rumlow was one of the real bad guys. Only wanted to see Steve suffer. Because he hasn’t had enough hard times already._

 

“SI and the Avengers are doing everything to make sure that the money being given to the people in Lagos is being used to repair buildings, houses, and aid the victims. However,” she said, giving her smile a little bit extra, “some things can’t be done without greasing a few palms.” The reporters began to stir, although this really shouldn’t be news to anyone. “And if padding a few government official’s pockets is the price of making sure houses are built this year, rather than next, ensuring that building supplies can be safely imported, well, it’s SI - and the Avenger’s - position that such an expense is permissible.” Her grin turned just a tad feral. “After all, it’s not SI or the Avenger’s place to meddle in the affairs of a sovereign nation.”

 

The reporters should have paused. If the world were a marginally fair place, they would have paused and thought about that for a second before raising their hands and clamouring to be the next person picked.

 

But the world wasn’t a fair place, and Darcy’s answer had barely left her mouth before the reporters were competing to have their questions answered.

 

Darcy just moved along the line, as she always did. As she always would. _You think they’d learn a thing or two by now…_

 

“Miss Lewis, Herald Times,” the reporter, a woman, this time, said, and Darcy nodded, poised. “Are the Avengers going to be doing something to help Hermes and the Ares III crew?”

 

All poise vanished from Darcy’s face for an instant. For one second, no, for one fraction of a second, Darcy forgot all of the media training Pepper had put her through. Her mind blanked, her stomach dropped, and her heart started pounding in her ears.

 

Then her brain started working again.

 

“We’re more than happy to help NASA with anything they need,” Darcy said. The little part of her that analysed what she was saying noticed how wooden she sounded. She also suspected her smile looked rather more pasted on than usual. But she soldiered on. “Unfortunately, as you all know, Thor is on a mission from Asgard and thus unreachable. Also,” here her smile quirked into something real for a fraction of a second, “NASA has some very smart people and is funded by the US government. They know what they’re doing. Which doesn’t stop me from promising that if NASA reaches out, either to SI or to the Avengers, we will do everything in our power to help.” _We will. I’ll make sure of it._ “And on that note,” she allowed her smile to drop into the more somber expression that was her default these days, “I should say once again how saddened we are at the loss of Mark Watney.” _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry._ “We can only express our relief feel lucky  that the rest of the crew are headed back to Earth safely, and we await their return as eagerly as the rest of the planet.”

 

Darcy’s phone, sitting neatly face-up on the lectern, buzzed, and a notification lit up the screen.

 

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said into the microphone, pocketing the phone and smoothing her jacket. “That’s all I have time for today - if you put your questions in writing, I’ll be happy to answer them by the end of the week.” With a nod at the reporters and the cameras, Darcy strode off to the bank of elevators, heels clacking, face beginning to be hidden by her curtain of hair.

 

The centermost elevator’s doors were open, and closed as soon as she stepped inside.

 

“Mr. Stark requested your presence, Miss Lewis,” JARVIS said.

 

“Thanks, J,” Darcy replied. “I got the text. Tell him thanks for getting me out of there.” _I’m not sure how many more questions I would have survived after that one._

 

“Hey kiddo.” Tony’s voice echoed off the elevator walls. “Looked like the press conference was getting ugly.”

 

“Since when do you watch my press conferences?” Darcy snarked, immediately feeling better.

 

“Steve had it on. I was supervising,” Tony said blithely.

 

“Right.” Darcy stepped out of the elevator and straight into Tony’s outstretched arms. Even though Tony was slightly shorter than she was in the heels she was wearing, she still managed to burrow her face into his shoulder, shutting out the world for just a second. She didn’t think Mark would mind. After him, Tony gave the best hugs.

 

“You doing okay there?” Tony asked, voice muffled as his sweatshirt’s hood fell over Darcy’s head.

Darcy nodded. “Fine.” She pulled away from the billionaire, no-longer playboy philanthropist, then repeated herself. “I’m fine, Tony.” She glanced over his shoulder, at where Steve and Bucky were looking up at her from the sofa. “The reporter just caught me off guard, is all.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “They’re allowed to ask about Ares III. It’s a valid question.” She suddenly felt very old, and very tired, toeing off her heels as she went to grab her seat on the arm of the couch closest to Steve. “I didn’t look like too much of an ass, right?”

 

“You did fine,” Steve said, giving her the once over himself to make sure she was ok. “Very professional.”

 

“I could tell you were shaken,” Bucky said, neatly avoiding the elbow his friend threw at him as he continued. “But I don’t think many other people would have. You do this thing where you drum your fingers on the edge of the lectern when you’re getting antsy.”

 

“Thanks,” Darcy said a bit sarcastically, although the look she shot Bucky was genuinely grateful. Bucky just nodded back.

 

“Anytime, doll.”

 

“What he means is that he’s happy to micromanage your microexpressions,” Steve commented.

 

“Just because you started watching Lie to Me doesn’t mean you’re an expert in reading people, Steve,” Bucky shot back.

 

“Just because you didn’t know what they were before I pointed them out to you doesn’t mean you’re better than me,” Steve retorted, and Darcy settled into her perch, letting the boys squabble. They were worse than school children, what with the constant pulling of the pigtails. Darcy still wasn’t sure whether it was long-repressed sexual tension or just the product of eighty years and thousands of shared traumatic and nontraumatic experiences, but Steve and Bucky didn’t seem to be able to go a day without bickering.

 

Her phone buzzed, and she looked at it without thinking.

 

**‘Robert Lewis’**

 

 _Speaking of brothers._ She sighed. _Clint was right. I really do need to talk to him._ She stood, swiped the phone’s screen to accept the call, and brought it to her ear as Bucky began quoting Paul Eckman at length.

 

“Hey, Rob.”

 

“Darcy - I… wasn’t expecting you to pick up.” The nervousness in her brother’s voice made Darcy pause, and then, because she had no filter, she just went on with what she had been going to say in the first place.

 

“And yet you keep calling.”

 

Rob chuckled, and, just like that, the tension broke.

 

“How are you doing, Darce?” he asked, “I saw the press conference - everyone there treating you okay?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all the thanks go to the fabulous Alexandra926, and if you feel like heading over to Tumblr to say hi, I'm at stonegirl77.tumblr.com.


	11. Sol 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark writes to Darcy.

Hi Darcy,

 

So what does an astronaut with nothing to do but farm do in his off-hours, you ask? And no, the answer is not raid Beck’s infirmary and get high on whatever pharmaceuticals he has in there. (I’ve thought about it, though…)

 

No. I get to watch your sister-in-law’s crappy taste in TV.

 

I got through all of the anime you made me bring before we even got to Mars. Figured I’d blow through it all again while I was here, then suffer on the way back. But since I’m going to be on Mars longer than expected, I’m rationing. 

 

Rationing anime. Who’d have thought?

 

In between Attack on Titan, though, I get to suffer through your sister-in-law’s seventies obsession... 

 

Darcy, did good taste skip your brother, or does he suffer through endless  _ Three’s Company _ reruns too? I’m not sure which scenario scares me more., Commander Lewis being married to someone who shares her taste in pop culture, or your poor brother suffering in, well, not silence, I’m pretty sure, but… hell, just stop me now. I don’t want to be the cause of any Lewis family discord. 

 

Turns out it’s Thanksgiving today - I wonder if you spent it with my parents or with Rich - or both? I hope you had pumpkin pie. And mashed potatoes. 

 

Which brings me to my other bit of news - vital to me, probably boring to everyone else. I’m going to be a potato farmer! See, the other thing I’ve been doing since the last letter I wrote you, other than shitting, bringing a metric fuck-ton of Mars earth into the Hab, and watching 70s reruns, has been doing math. 

 

Deeply depressing, plug numbers into a calculator and crunch out calculation after calculation, math. Not the pretty calculus kind you like, princess. But hey, working out how many calories are in a potato and how many potatoes I need to grow to survive is important. So this monkey enters more numbers in the calculator. So far, it’s looking… not good. But better. 

 

My main problems are soil surface and water. Still working on how to get more water - no Rain Man jokes, please. But I’m making progress on the soil. I keep shitting, anyway. And there are as yet un-farmed stretches of tabletop and bunk. And I’m sure there are other things I’m missing. 

 

Still working on surviving to get back home.

 

Have a happy Thanksgiving. Eat lots of pie for me.

 

Love you, princess.

 

The duet-grubbing peon known as Mark.

 


	12. Sol 40, Pt. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Caroline, and Bert venture to Houston to discuss Mark's official memorial
> 
> What joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos - it makes my day every time I receive them!
> 
> Also - Alexandra926 and I were trying to come up with a ship name for Darcy and Watney. Our favourite - the one that's going in the tags? #PotatoShock

It was hot in Houston. At least, it was hot compared to New York. Even in the middle of December, with Christmas lights on every house, Darcy was doing her best not to sweat through her blouse. 

 

Or maybe that was just nerves. 

 

She pulled her rental car into the entrance of the Johnson Space Center, stopping at the checkpoint and rolling down her window. 

 

“Hi, I'm Darcy Lewis,” she said, smiling at the security guard, who seemed completely content with the unseasonable heat. “I'm here for a meeting?”

 

The guard flipped open his tablet - not Stark-issue, Darcy noted - and hit a few keys. “Lewis?” 

 

“Yep.” Darcy grinned.

 

Security Guard Guy nodded. “All present and correct, ma’am. Go on through - Visitor Parking-“

 

“I know where it is, thanks,” Darcy interrupted politely. “I’ve been here before.”

 

“In that case,” the man said, “Welcome to JSC.”

 

“Thanks,” Darcy said, voice far less cheerful now the man was out of earshot, returning to the presumably air conditioned hut to raise the gate for her. 

She put the car in drive once more and put her foot on the gas. 

  
  


Five minutes later and she was walking into the lobby of Johnson Space Center and towards Bert and Caroline. 

 

“Hey, kiddo,” Bert said, slinging an arm around her after she’d disengaged from Caroline’s embrace. “How was the flight?”

 

“Starkjet,” Darcy said with a small smile. “Tony insisted.”

 

Caroline chuckled. “Nice boss you have there.”

 

“He makes up for it by never signing a piece of paper and saying the most inappropriate things after a mission,” Darcy said, although she was grinning as well. “Oh, and going on random 30-hour engineering benders right before Pepper needs him to do something. What about you two?” she asked. “Get in from Chicago okay?”

 

“Oh fine,” Caroline brushed off her cardigan, looking around the still-vacant lobby. “Got into the hotel last night, no trouble.” 

 

Two men and a woman walked out of a corridor and looked around briefly before coming towards them. 

 

“Do you know who these people are?” Caroline asked. “I only recognise two of them.”

 

“The guy in the middle’s Teddy Sanders - he’s the director of NASA - he’s the one that called you about Mark. And he came to the funeral.” Darcy caught Sander’s eyes, and he nodded at her. “The guy on the right’s Venkat Kapoor - Director of Mars Missions - he was at the funeral too, but I’m not sure if he said hello to you two.”

 

“He did,” Bert put in. “Very nice guy.”

 

“Friend from grad school,” Darcy said, nodding. “Venk’s good people, for the most part. The lady’s Annie Montrose - she’s Media Relations for NASA.”

 

“Weren’t you…” Caroline began, but then the trio were close enough to be able to hear, and she stopped. Darcy shot Caroline a look, one that said  _ I’ll tell you later _ , then stepped slightly in front of the Watney’s, extending her hand to Sanders. 

 

“Mr. Sanders. It’s good to see you again, sir.”

 

“Likewise, Ms. Lewis,” the man said, taking her hand and giving it the regulation politician handshake, a bit too firm for comfort, but nothing that anyone could point to as being overtly aggressive. “I believe you know Director Kapoor and Ms. Montrose?” He made it a question.

 

“I do,” Darcy nodded. “Hi Venk, nice to meet you in person, Ms. Montrose.” Annie made a noise of polite agreement, and Darcy went on, “but I don’t think the Watneys have been properly introduced.”

 

Venk stepped forward. “Mr. And Mrs. Watney, thank you for coming.” 

 

“We’re glad to be included at all,” Caroline said, beaming at Venk in her most charming, midwest way. The one Darcy knew contained at least some measure of sarcasm. “Bert, you remember Director Kapoor,”

 

“Venkat, please,” Venk said, bowing under the force of the Watney’s niceness, as Darcy knew he would. 

 

“In that case,” Caroline said, continuing her quest to have the Director of Mars Missions wrapped around her little finger, “I’m Caroline, and this is Bert. None of that Mr. and Mrs. Watney business.”

 

“What’s on the schedule for today?” Darcy asked Sanders, as Annie joined Venk in talking to the Watneys. Darcy knew she was being ignored, but she’d expected something of the sort. Awkward enough when you knew you were someone’s second choice for a position. More awkward still when you were forced to interact with that someone and, for all intents and purposes, collaborate with them. Add any hint of ambition or pettiness, and you had a potential minefield. So Darcy was content to simply coexist with Annie Montrose until the time came to do otherwise. 

 

“We’ll convene with Mitch Henderson - he’s the Flight Director for Ares III, and so he wants some input,” Darcy nodded, “And go over the broad strokes for the public memorial service.” Sanders sighed. “We’ll try and be as accommodating as we can, but”

 

“You need it as much for NASA publicity as much as for actually honoring Mark.” Darcy nodded sourly. “I know the deal.” Darcy shook her head. “Mr. Saunders, as far as I'm concerned, Mark’s funeral was the one we held in Chicago a few weeks ago.” Her mind flashed back to the packed cathedral, the pew reserved for herself, Caroline and Bert. Rob had flown in from Houston and sat behind her, looking slightly awed to be squashed next to Natasha, Clint, and the rest of Avengers who’d been able to come. 

 

It had been… good. Good to remember Mark. Good to remember the good times, the memories of college brought up by their professors in attendance, their mutual friends from back then. Horrible, but nonetheless good. 

 

Even with the paparazzi scattered outside the church before, after, and during. 

 

And she’d had a say in what was going on. She’d help pick the people who spoke, spoken herself - how she had managed that without completely breaking down, she still had no idea. 

 

Darcy didn't like the idea of a media circus. Even though she was the ringmaster for one on a regular basis, it wasn't exactly her idea of a good time. But… she understood.  Sanders wanting to secure NASA funding. Even if he did plan on using her dead fiancé to do it. 

 

Sanders was looking at her, waiting for her to continue, and Darcy realised she'd paused a little too long. 

 

She smiled in apology, and continued. “I still reserve the right to have my hands firmly in the process, but as far as I'm concerned, this is just publicity.”

 

“That's remarkably understanding,” Sanders replied. 

 

“You do remember what I do for a living, right?” Darcy’s smile was more real now. She glanced over at Bert and Caroline, who were still busy charming Venk and Annie. 

 

_ It's those two you really have to worry about, _ she thought.  _ Not that I'm telling you that.  _

 

Sanders’ gaze joined hers, then he cleared his throat. “Mr and Mrs. Watney, perhaps you'd like to continue this discussion with a cup of coffee? Or perhaps seated?”

 

“Oh, of course,” Caroline said. “Venkat was just telling us about about the new plans for the next batch of Mars missions.” Her eyes were a bit brighter than usual, and Darcy was pretty certain she wasn't imagining the way Caroline’s voice rose just slightly as she spoke. Not when Bert put a hand on her elbow as well. 

 

“Let's get you a cup of coffee, then,” Sanders said, extending a hand to gesture Caroline and Bert to precede him up the steps. 

 

Caroline smiled and started to chat with Sanders. 

 

“So.”

 

Venkat fell into step with Darcy, Annie gesturing to her phone, then picking it up and speaking into it, letting the quartet leave her behind. 

 

“How've you been? We haven't exactly talked since you left NASA.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you want to come visit me on tumblr, feel free - stonegirl77.tumblr.com !
> 
> And now: Continuity....
> 
> As SpectreZer0 noticed - I slipped up a few chapters ago and replaced JARVIS with FRIDAY. (Which was totally my bad, thank you, SpectreZer0, for pointing it out!)
> 
> In any event, I realised I don't think I've established exactly when in MCU canon this is all taking place. (And yes, I'm playing a bit more fast and loose with MCU canon than I am with the Martian-verse. But I know the MCU better...) 
> 
> This is post- Captain America: the Hydra-ning (Winter Soldier), and post Thor 2. But no Age of Ultron, no Civil War. Instead, Thor stayed on Earth a while, vegged with Jane and Darcy before Odin somehow woke up out of the Odinsleep, summoned Thor, and sent him and Loki on an epic quest to “save the Universe from Thanos”. (Not sure why I felt the quotes were necessary. But they totally were.)
> 
> Does that make sense? I think it makes sense…


	13. Sol 40, Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Darcy's NASA past is revealed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! 
> 
> I am SO sorry to not have posted! I have no excuse to offer.. the chapters were even written and beta'd. This one's on me.... 
> 
> So, as an apology, I'll be posting today, and then tomorrow, and then Sunday, to make up for it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

“We haven't exactly talked since you left NASA.” 

 

Darcy considered her reply as she and Venk followed Sanders and the Watneys up the stairs. 

 

“Things got a little crazy,” she said finally. 

 

“No kidding,” Venk replied. “One summer of interning with Dr. Foster and not only do you get to meet an Asgardian, but you’re doing the kind of science we only dreamed about doing.”

 

“Jealous?” Darcy asked with a grin. She knew better. Venk’s heart and soul was NASA. But she knew he had loved talking wormhole theory and Einstein-Rosen bridges with her before she’d left NASA to get her Masters in Political Science. 

 

_ Not that I really finished that degree, _ Darcy thought, still amused. She was six credits - one semester - away from her degree, but what with her work with Jane, and then her position with the Avengers, actually getting around to obtaining her piece of paper had fallen by the wayside. 

 

“Maybe a little,” Venk said. “You’ll have to introduce me to Thor, next time he’s on Earth.”

 

“Vision, too,” Darcy said, nodding. “You could all discuss the physics of the multiverse until you go blue in the face. Assuming they get back. And, you know, Thanos doesn’t destroy us all.”

 

“There’s always that,” Venk agreed, with a degree of calm that Darcy decided meant he wasn’t quite as worried about the continued survival of Earth and humanity as he really should be. 

 

_ Ignorance is bliss, _ Darcy thought. 

 

“Still,” Venk said, “How does it feel, coming back?”

 

“During the day, going up to the Director’s floor?” Darcy filled in. Venk nodded. She shrugged. “I never loved this place the way you do, Venk. I’ve got some good memories - the time we stayed up for three nights running on Nerds, Red Bull, and pizza waiting for Ares II to land, for example.Or the time we pranked Henderson by changing all of his computer’s sound settings.” Henderson’s computer had meowed for a solid week until he’d figured out how to fix it. 

 

Venk chuckled. “Good times… good times. And here we are.” He gestured for Darcy to precede him through the glass door into a meeting room adjacent to the door that read ‘Theodore Saunders, Administrator for NASA’.

  
  
  


There were already two people in the room. 

 

“Mindy?” Darcy was halfway around the conference table as the blonde woman looked up from a tablet.

 

“Darcy?” Mindy Park dropped the tablet and rose, giving Darcy a hug. “I didn't know you were coming! What are you doing here? Are the Avengers going to be at the memorial?”

 

Darcy's answering expression held only a modicum of humour. “I guess I should be glad the news hasn't leaked,” she said. “I'm here because I’m Mark’s fiancé.” Mindy’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Mitch Henderson, the other person in the room, just looked on. He knew about her and Mark. Had been the only other person at NASA to know they were actually engaged, other than Venkat and the other Ares III crewmembers, in point of fact. “The Avengers have expressed an interest in attending,” Darcy continued, this time addressing her remarks to Saunders as much as Mindy. “They have no interest in stealing anyone's thunder,”  _ Not that we’d need to, because, well, Thor _ , her brain insisted on snarking, “but if there's anything they can do, tell them ‘where to be, what to do, and where to throw the money’.” Darcy’s lips quirked. “That last bit was a direct quote from Mr. Stark, Sir,” she said, turning to face Sanders squarely. 

 

Sanders chuckled. “That's quite the offer,” he said. “We’ll certainly bear it in mind. But first - does everyone know everyone?” 

 

“Everyone except the lovely young lady,” Caroline said. “Who’s your friend, Darcy?”

 

Darcy raised an eyebrow at Mindy, silently asking if Mindy wanted to introduce herself. 

 

She did. “I’m Mindy Park, Mrs. Watney,” she said, extending a hand. “I'm one of the people who takes care of the satellites around Mars. And Darcy and I used to work together.” She grinned at Darcy. “Good times.”

 

“Good times,” Darcy replied, evenings of far too little sleep, far too much Red Bull and so much code that she dreamed about it in the sleep she did get flashing before her eyes. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Caroline said, resuming her charm offensive with a more genuine smile for Mindy. “And enough of this Mrs. Watney business. I’m not decrepit yet. I’m Caroline, and this is Bert.”

 

“If we could get this meeting started?” Henderson asked. “I only have so much time today before we’re in contact with Hermes again.”

 

Darcy’s smile dropped off her face. Trust Henderson to bring the entire room crashing back to Earth.  _ He can be a cheerless bastard. _

 

“Of course.” Sanders looked around, presumably for Annie, who was still absent, then gave an aborted shrug and started into his spiel.

 

“I assume you’ll have no problems working with Annie, Ms. Lewis?” he asked. “I’ll give you the broad strokes now, but she’s the one with all the details.”

 

“I have no problem working with Ms. Montrose,” Darcy said.  _ Unless she has one working with me. _

 

Sanders nodded. “In that case, this is what we’d like to do. The ceremony will be at Arlington - Mark’s memorial will be next to the Clark, Brown, and Anderson memorials. Full honors, we’ll brief you later about exactly what you’ll need to do….”

  
  


…………………..

  
  


“I think that’s all we need from you today,” Annie Montrose said, pushing the lock of blonde hair that had made its way out of her severe hairstyle back behind her ear.

 

_ It’s nice to know that even Annie Montrose loosens up after a 12 hour workday, _ Darcy thought, not wanting to know what her own hair looked like. It had come out of its pins around 4pm, and she’d finally given up trying to wrangle it loose and just slung it in a ponytail. Perhaps not the most fashionable choice. But it was effective. And, at 8pm, having already sent Bert and Caroline to the hotel hours ago while she and Annie worked out details, Darcy really didn’t care what she looked like. 

 

“We still haven’t finished that VIP guest list,” Darcy reminded her colleague. 

 

“We can work on that tomorrow,” Annie sighed. “Invites aren’t going out until next week anyway.”

 

“All right,” Darcy said grudgingly. “But you should be aware, the biggest problem on that list is General Ross.”

 

“Senator Ross, now,” Annie reminded her.

 

“Whatever.” Darcy brushed off the fact that the state of Pennsylvania, in their eminent wisdom, had actually elected the jackass that had screwed over Bruce Banner’s life, that of his daughter, and would continue to do so at the next given opportunity. “Ross is the main problem there.”

 

“May I ask-“ Annie began, then stopped herself. “Nope, forget I asked. We can get into that tomorrow. I’m guessing if we start talking about Senator Ross’s attendance, we might not get out of here until tomorrow, and I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”

 

Darcy, much to her surprise, actually laughed. “That is… entirely fair. Leaving Ross until tomorrow.” She looked at the papers, tablet, cups of coffee and general detritus in front of her. “So - are we done for the day?”

 

Annie looked at her tab, then back at Darcy. She nodded. “We’ve already managed much more than I thought we would.” Darcy began to gather her papers together in a manageable pile. “Darcy?”

 

“Yeah?” They’d landed on a first-name basis just after lunch. 

 

“I … I wanted you to know - I thought it’d be awkward, working with you.” Annie looked away, out the window of her office, then back to Darcy. “You know, because of… you were their first choice, for this job, and I honestly didn’t know whether I was big enough to handle that gracefully.” The sentence came out in a rush, as if Annie had to say it fast to get it out at all. “But although I don’t know if anything about this process is fun,” Darcy’s smile was definitely two shades north of crooked. “I’m glad we got the chance to work together.” She held out a hand.

 

Darcy stared at it for a moment, then a real smile spread over her face. “Thanks,” she said, taking the hand and shaking it firmly. “And it wasn’t exactly less awkward for me, you know,” she said, standing and gathering her things. “Now. Let’s get out of here before we turn into pumpkins.”

 

“I don’t think orange is exactly my best colour,” Annie joked. “I’ve got to close down the office. Get out - get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Night, Annie.”

 

“Night!” Annie was already bent over the computer at her desk, looking at something with a concentrated expression. 

 

Darcy wandered down the almost-deserted corridors of the executive floor. 

 

_ You know I hate to say it,  _  she thought,  _ But you were right, Mark. Under different circumstances, I could definitely see Annie and I being fast friends. Wish you were here to see it. _

 

_ On the other hand, if you were here, Annie and I would still be cordially disliking each other.  _

 

_ I think I’d rather have you than her.  _

 

_ Just sayin’. _

 

_ Why’d you have to go to Mars again? _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, amazing thanks go to Alexandra926, and if you fancy coming over to Tumblr and saying hi to us (I'm stonegirl77, she's alexandra926), we'd love to hear from you!


	14. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark meets Darcy in London...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, you guys are the absolute best! Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!! They absolutely made/make my day!!!!

It was a suspiciously nice day.

 

The sun was shining - not always a given in London, especially during late February. 

 

Mark was with her, eyes shining as he inspected the different varieties of fern, telling her stories that were a mix of half-true, half-remembered, and half-repeated. 

 

“Oh, let’s go over here,” he said as the path they were on forked. “I hear their water lilies are stunning.”

 

“You’re the botanist,” Darcy said, slipping her arm through his and following him as he half-dragged her past an enormous Victorian-looking greenhouse stuffed to the gills with foliage and towards a much smaller greenhouse. 

 

She didn’t really care what they looked at. This was her day off, the time where she wasn’t trying to help Jane with research on the leftover Dark Elf artifacts while at the same trying to set up the Avengers’ latest ‘we’re not actively trying to destroy national monuments’ PR effort. Most of that involved Cap and Thor working at the Naval College in Greenwich, being their well-muscled, all-around-good-guy selves as they helped to shift rubble and rebuild what Malekith had helped to destroy. 

 

“You ok, princess?” Mark was looking down at her with a funny expression on his face. 

 

Darcy shook herself.  _ Day off, Lewis. This is your day off. As in, no thinking about work. _

 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Woolgathering.”

 

Mark, somewhat uncharacteristically, didn’t say anything, but instead put a finger underneath her chin and tilted it upwards, kissing her softly. 

 

“No need to apologize, princess,” he murmured. 

 

“Well in that case,” Darcy said, snarking in reflex to the unexpected romance. Mark’s grin flashed, and he started off towards the mini-greenhouse again. 

 

“You’re gonna love this,” he said. “I called them yesterday - they said the lilies are just starting to bloom.”

 

Darcy pushed open the door and winced as she was covered in a blanket of humidity. Her fingers unbuttoned her peacoat as the heat registered, but her mind was elsewhere.

 

The place was as gorgeous as advertised. Vines snaked along ceiling and climbed the walls, orchids dripping from the vines. She passed through the antechamber into the main room of the greenhouse, not bothering to check whether or not Mark was following her. 

 

Instead, she was drawn to the pond in the center of the greenhouse, stepping forward noiselessly until her legs hit the information placard at its edge. 

 

The pond was covered in water lilies. Blues that were almost purple - or was that purples that were almost blue? - deep maroon, white. And the leaves, all green, some large enough to sit on, some small and delicate. 

 

Darcy stood and stared, taking it all in.

Until she realized she couldn’t feel Mark behind her. 

 

“Where’d you-” she began, spinning on her heels, then stopped, mouth falling open in surprise. 

 

Mark was on one knee, a small velvet box in one hand, smiling up at her. “Took you long enough,” he said.

 

“You take me to a pretty place, I look at the pretty things,” she snarked back, but she couldn’t quite find the sarcasm that should have gone with the quip.

 

“Was there something you wanted to say?”

 

“As a matter of fact,” Mark fidgeted. “I … almost eight years ago, I was TAing for a Botany 101 class, and there was this one girl - a student of mine. Smart, gorgeous, and it took everything I had not to ask her out while I was teaching her. And then all my courage to finally ask her out when she passed the class. With an A, of course,” his smile slipped into the self-assured. 

 

“Of course,” Darcy repeated.

 

“Anyway, she said yes - and it turns out, I’m really glad she did,” Mark went on. “Because I’m pretty sure she’s the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. The woman I want to have children with. 

 

“Darcy Lewis, you are the most sarcastic, workaholic, gorgeous, selfless, brilliant girlfriend a botanist like me could ever have. Any chance you’d be willing to be my sarcastic, gorgeous, selfless, brilliant wife?”

 

Darcy wasn’t tearing up. Nope. That was … pollen. Did water lilies even have pollen at this time of year?

 

“You forgot workaholic,” she said softly. “And yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

 

And then Mark was on his feet and she was moving towards him and they had their arms around each other, the ring box still in Mark’s hand digging into Darcy's kidney. 

  
  
  


 

 

 

Two days later, Mark was assigned to Ares III.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come and chat with me on tumblr - I'm stonegirl77 there.


	15. Sol 60, Pt. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark's memorial at Arlington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all the comments and kudos, you're all amazing unicorns filled with rainbows! (you know, if that's your thing. Or forces of darkness, if you prefer ;) )
> 
> This is the last of the daily updates, but I'll be posting Tuesday on schedule, so you won't have to wait too long for an update!

_ This is not Mark’s funeral, _ Darcy reminded herself as she stood next to Caroline at Arlington National Cemetery. 

 

It wasn’t Mark’s funeral. But it felt like it. Except that this one was even worse than the ceremony at the cathedral. Here she could feel the eyes of the world on her, on the military men stood in a line, on Mark’s empty coffin. 

 

There had already been a few drones flying in the sky as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Darcy could hear the hum of the one chopper that was authorised to be above the ceremony - Steve and Tony had vetoed more access than that, and Darcy was just as glad, what with the impressive guest list and all. 

 

All of the Avengers were there. Except Thor. And Barnes, who was doing his usual mixture of avoiding too much human contact and making sure the world didn’t explode while the Avengers were away. T’Challa was in the crowd, Jane and Erik too, Director Coulson and Agent Hill, Clint’s family.

 

_ This is simultaneously the most dangerous and potentially vulnerable spot on Earth right now, _ Darcy thought, shifting her balance from one foot to the other. The heels she was wearing weren’t exactly grass-appropriate.  _ I still can’t believe Pepper managed to get here.  _ She snuck a glance at Pepper, looking grim and clutching Tony’s hand in hers.  _ I know she said she’d be here, but she’s a CEO - of SI - we would all have understood if she couldn’t make it.  _

 

_ But she’s here. _

 

_ They’re all here. _

 

Some small part of Darcy was coming to understand that, although all of the Avengers did mourn Mark’s death, in the intellectual way most of the rest of the world did - as an astronaut, someone who sacrificed himself for his planet, for science - the biggest reason they were all here, the reason security had been such a nightmare, was her. 

 

They were here because of Darcy. Because Mark was Darcy’s fiancé. And that was both touching and terrifying, and Darcy was doing her level best not to think about it. 

 

But the President was wrapping up his speech. Darcy tried her best to pay attention to the speech she’d now heard twice and read at least ten times. 

 

“And as much as we will truly miss Mark Watney, and honour his sacrifice, we should also remember that, thanks to Commander Melissa Lewis, we have five other astronauts on their way home.” Darcy nodded. “Commander Lewis’ actions, both her initiative in getting her people to the MAV and her ultimately unsuccessful attempt to rescue Mark Watney are a shining example of the bravery that humanity is capable of. She does a credit to her family, to the US Navy, and to her planet. She, Mark Watney, and the rest of the crew of Ares III are true heroes, and all we as civilians can do is try and repay their sacrifices as best as we can.”

 

The President looked off to his right. “And now, I believe the Administrator of NASA, Mr. Teddy Sanders, is going to say a few words. Thank you for your time.”

 

“So, how do you feel about coming out?” Tony asked, pulling back from the hug. 

 

“Trust you to come up with that opener,” Darcy said, giving him her best smile for the day. Not that the smile was wonderful - she’d reverted back to the first few days after Mark had died, only able to half-smile, and only at the greatest provocation.

 

“Ignore him,” Pepper said, giving Darcy a peck on the cheek. 

 

“I usually do,” Darcy replied. “Thank you for coming.”

 

“As if we’d miss it,” Pepper waved it off. Then she smiled. “But really - how are you doing? Have the reporters cornered you yet?”

 

“I’ve got an interview booked with Colbert next week,” Darcy said. “That’s all the press I’m going to do.” She made a face. “The one ‘Watney’s fiancée’ exclusive. At least I know how this all works. I pity the poor woman who gets bombarded with all of this unawares.”

 

It had been a calculated decision, when to release the news that she was Mark’s fiancée. Annie and Darcy had discussed several options, then decided on leaking the news just before the funeral. With all the scrutiny on the memorial anyway, the added news was just a drop in the bucket, not the headline it would be on any other day. 

 

And Darcy had been contacted by every major news body within 24 hours of the news being leaked, then contacted Stephen Colbert’s people and arranged her one and only long form interview on the subject. And if any reporter in the Avengers’ news corral asked? Well, she could just kick them out. She had a feeling at least Steve would be sitting in on any of her press conferences for the next week or two, until the buzz completely died down. 

 

“If you need anything - warm bodies, extra security or encryption, let me know,” Pepper said. “I mean it.” Darcy must have made a face. “Really. Anything SI or Tony can do is at your disposal.”

 

“What? I am?” Tony grinned. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Pep’.”

 

Darcy giggled, just once. 

 

“There you go, Shortstack.” Tony slung an arm around her shoulders. “Now, let’s go and rescue Rogers. I bet he’s surrounded by his usual horde of admirers.”

Venkat Kapoor pulled at his tie. He’d just arrived in Houston from Arlington, and instead of heading home and drowning himself in bourbon, he had come to JSC. Not that he didn’t have a bottle of the stuff here. Hell, it was practically a job requirement as soon as you became Director. With great power came great reasons to drink.

 

But not yet. The tie loosened, he undid his first button and sat at his chair, staring unseeing at his computer monitor. 

 

Sometimes he wondered what all this was for. 

 

_ Why even bother going to Mars? It’s not like it can support life, not without major work on our part. Besides, if Darcy’s right about Thor, if we wait for him to get back, we could have FTL travel without killing our own men to do it.  _

 

_ Assuming Thor comes back.  _

 

_ Although being reliant on Asgard for our scientific advancement isn’t the best idea. Just in case Odin gets pissy with us. Again.  _

 

“Dr. Kapoor? Director?” Mindy Park was half leaning through his open door. From the look on her face, it wasn’t the first time she’d said his name. 

 

“Yes, Ms. Park?” Venkat straightened, sitting upright in his chair, making an effort to look like he was capable and in charge.

 

_ Although if there ever was a time for looking less than composed, tonight would be the time, _ he thought morbidly. 

 

“I was looking at the satellite images of the Ares III landing site,” Mindy said, coming in, clutching her tablet to her chest as if it might keep her from floating away. “The request came across my desk this morning.” Venk nodded. He’d had to fight Sanders for the request - what with NASA’s information being public domain, Sanders hadn’t wanted pictures of Watney’s body lying on Martian soil, had worried that it would sour the public’s appetite for further space travel. “And I found something weird.”

 

“Define weird.” Venkat’s mental hackles rose, just slightly, through his fatigue.

 

Mindy lurched forward, turning on the tablet and pointing. 

 

“See that? That’s the Hab.” Venk nodded. He’d seen more pictures of Habs from space than he cared to count. “The rovers aren’t where they’re supposed to be.” She drew two circles onto the image. “This is where Lewis said they were when they left Mars.” The circles were just empty arcs of sand, ones the Rovers had clearly escaped.

 

“The storm could have moved them,” Venk argued. This just wasn’t… possible. It was wishful thinking. Had to be wishful thinking. He could feel his pulse beginning to race, but he forced it to calm, to think things through clearly, logically.

 

“Not likely,” Mindy said. “But possible. But that’s not the only thing.” She pointed at the solar panels, the black standing out starkly against the red Martian soil. “Notice anything strange about those panels, sir?”

 

Venkat peered closer. “I’m not seeing…” he began.

 

“What happens when a storm crosses solar panels on Mars?” Mindy asked. 

 

“Sand covers -” Venkat stopped abruptly. “Oh shit.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Are you sure?” Venkat asked. “Do you have more data? When’s the next satellite pass over the site?”

 

“A few hours,” Mindy said. “I’ll look over the backlog of data if you want me to, but I think this is pretty clear.”

 

“Mark Watney’s alive.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come find me on tumblr - stonegirl77.tumblr.com


	16. Sol 60, Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy finds out Mark's alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all (again!) for leaving comments and kudos - y'all are the best, seriously!!! I love you all!
> 
> Hopefully I did this justice....

“Nope. No more work.” Jane’s hand started to wave between Darcy and her beloved StarkPad, completely obscuring the latest press release she was working on. 

 

“Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Darcy asked, giving up on doing work with Jane present and sitting back in her desk chair. “It was you who I had to force to eat last week because you were on a Science! bender, right?”

 

“Which is why I’m dragging you away from updating Twitter or Instagram, or whatever you’re doing,” Jane said, coming around the desk and holding out her hands. “Come on - you were in Arlington yesterday, stayed up half the night monitoring social media - I know you did, and Tony’s introducing Bucky and Steve to Monty Python.”

 

Jane had actually become fast friends with the ex-Hydra assassin. Mostly because they were currently the people left behind to mind the store. Also because Bucky was kind of brilliant. Darcy suspected that if he’d grown up in the 21st century, he’d be some kind of scientist. He’d taken the Feynman lectures off the bookshelf in Bruce and Jane’s lab, and two weeks later was discussing the impacts of relativity on Einstein-Rosen bridges with Jane. And since anywhere Jane was, Darcy ended up, and anywhere Bucky was, Steve followed, the four of them ended up hanging out more often than not. 

 

But still.

 

“Holy Grail?”

 

“No, the Meaning of Life,” Jane scoffed. “Of course, Holy Grail! Come on, woman!”

 

Darcy sighed dramatically. “Fine. Fine, I concede. But there needs to be popcorn.”

 

“I promise you popcorn.” Jane held out her hands once more. Darcy took them and lifted herself from the chair with a groan. Her entire spine popped and crackled like a 80s cereal cartoon. 

 

_ Maybe it is time for a break. Purely in the interests of my physical health, of course. _

  
  


……………

  
  
  


“I like to push the pram a lot!” One of the knights of Camelot sung onscreen.

 

Well, Darcy assumed he sung. She, Tony, and Jane were all belting out the Camelot song at top volume, and what with Jane’s tone-deaf caterwauling and Tony’s harmony, Darcy couldn’t hear herself, let alone the knight on the screen. 

 

“Miss Lewis?” Jarvis’ voice cut off the movie, pausing it and sending everyone’s head turning to find the problem. 

 

“What's up, J?” Darcy asked, even as her stomach started to churn, the popcorn re-popping. 

 

“I know you like Life of Brian better,” Tony put in, “but that's no excuse-”

 

“If I may, Sir,” Jarvis interrupted, but Director Kapoor is on the line for Miss Lewis. He says he cannot wait.”

 

Darcy shook her head.  _ I just wanted a day. Half a day. To enjoy a movie. Was that so much to ask? _

With a sigh, Darcy started to lever herself off the couch. Started being the important word. Her progress was impeded by a certain supersoldier’s arm. She glanced up at Steve. 

 

“You can take it in here,” he said. “We don't mind. Unless you want privacy?”

 

Darcy snorted. “As if you wouldn't get the information in five minutes anyway.” She relaxed back onto the couch. “Fine. J, put him through, please.”

 

A pause, and then -

 

“Darcy?”

 

“Hey, Venk. Made it back to Houston ok?”

 

“I did,” Venk said. He sounded weird - almost wooden. “I was going to raid the Scotch I keep at the office, but Mindy Park came in before I could get going.”

 

“Mark’s alive, Darcy.”

 

_ What? _

 

_ No. that's not.  _

 

Darcy sat there motionless, not quite able to process what Venkat had just said. 

 

“Repeat that?” That was Tony, speaking while she couldn’t.

 

“Who’s this?” 

 

“Tony Stark. Lewis had you on speaker. Now - what did you just say?”

 

“Oh -okay. Well, Mr. Stark - it turns out Mark Watney’s alive. Miss Park was taking a look at the satellite footage, and she noticed that the rovers had moved. And that the solar panels had been brushed off.”

“We’re sure he’s alive, Mr. Stark. It's why we waited until we had confirmation before letting Darcy know.”

 

_ He’s alive.  _

 

_ Alive.  _

 

“Venk?” Darcy managed. 

 

“Yeah, Darce?”

 

“Pac-Man?” It was an old joke, from her days programming, when she and Mindy had been working on a PacMan sim problem and Venkat had gone in and hacked them, just for the hell of it. She and Mindy had worked on what they thought was a bug for 72 full hours. Then Venkat had walked into their office (read: closet that housed the unpaid interns) and offered them both jobs. Pac-Man had turned into their communal shorthand for something squiffy, something that looked to be working, but was full of bugs. Something that wasn’t true. Darcy asked in case the data was falsified, in case Venkat had been asked to say Mark was alive, because it all seemed far  _far_ too good to be true.

 

Venkat chuckled. “No Pac-Man, Darcy. He’s alive. And we will do everything in our power to get him home.”

  
  
  



	17. Sol 60, Pt. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy begins to process

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Sorry this is a little delayed - the day got away from me yesterday.
> 
> But here's the chapter - hope you enjoy!

_ Mark’s alive. _

 

_ He’s alive. _

 

Darcy registered the others talking around her, Jane and Stark already talking about ways to get Mark back home, Steve and Bucky mostly listening and offering suggestions, the ideas growing wilder and wilder by the second. Venkat was still on the line, she assumed, not having heard him say goodbye, and she wondered why that was - trying to exploit four of the finest minds on the planet? She wouldn’t blame him. 

 

But.

 

“Venk.” Everyone stopped talking when she spoke. Jane, perched on her knees on the sofa, turned and lowered herself back down. 

 

“Yeah?” Venkat’s voice came from the ceiling. 

 

“Two things. Can you communicate with him?”

 

Venkat sighed. “Sorry - thought I said. His communications array smashed, and without the MAV there…”

 

“Got it. No communication.” Darcy was almost numb as she absorbed the information. “And number two - how likely is it that you rescue him before he runs out of food.” Because, while the others had been discussing the viability of Iron Man Earth-to-Mars flights, Darcy’s thoughts had been elsewhere.

 

Silence. 

 

Then Venkat sighed. “You’re not going to like this answer.”

 

“You don’t know.” Darcy said woodenly.

 

“We honestly don’t, Darce!” She could almost see Venk pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered his thoughts. “The number of variables - if he figures out how to stretch his rations - there’s a theory floating around that he could farm from some of the supplies that got sent. How much he moves around - the list just keeps growing. But I can promise you this:  this is going to unite Earth. If it can be done, and we’ll have everyone working on it as fast as we can, it will be done. There aren’t going to be funding concerns, or proprietary information garbage. If it can be done, we’ll do it. Promise.”

 

Darcy felt a small glimmer of hope for the first time in months. A small fire that sat just below her sternum, hearing Venkat’s words, seeing Tony’s expression, and Jane’s, and Bucky and Steve’s. 

 

“Ok,” she said finally. “I’m gonna need some time - I’ll call you back later today?”

 

“You got it,” Venkat said.

 

“Before you go,” Darcy said hurriedly. “Has someone told Caroline and Bert?”

 

“Sanders is calling them now,” Venkat said. “We’d appreciate it if you kept the news quiet until the press conference, but that should be in a few hours.”

 

“If Annie wants a statement, she knows my number,” Darcy said, shifting into work mode for an instant. “Talk to you later, Venk.”

 

“Later, Darce.” The line went dead.

 

Silence.

 

“I’m going to make brownies,” Darcy said, and then, without ceremony, she got up and went to the kitchen. She grabbed the cookbook and leafed to the recipe, the book almost opening to the exact page, she’d made them so often. “Can you grab me the eggs?” she asked the person who’d followed her into the kitchen. 

 

“How many?” Tony asked.

 

“Four - making double.” She heard the fridge door open and shut as she sliced butter and put it in a saucepan to start to melt. She worked silently, allowing the ritual of measuring and weighing, stirring and pouring outweigh the morass of voices in her brain. 

 

Well, that was the goal, anyway. She was fine. Fine through the chopping of the chocolate, through the mixing of the eggs, making sure the chocolate and butter melted deliciousness didn’t curdle them, through making sure the cocoa powder didn’t leave too many lumps - because nobody’s got time for sifting. Not unless you’re making something delicate and French. 

 

“Run the numbers for me,” she said finally.

 

“What?” Tony was still hovering, sitting at the breakfast bar and typing way on the Starkpad he’d found. 

 

“Run the numbers for me,” she repeated. “I don’t want to get excited about Mark coming h-” she stopped abruptly as her voice broke and tears flooded to her eyes. “I don’t want to get excited about him coming home unless it’s an actual possibility. And don’t give me any shit about not knowing enough. You’re Tony Stark, for fuck’s sake. You have some idea.”

 

“You know I’m not a rocket scientist, right?” Tony asked.

 

“What, like that math’s hard? Most high school seniors can handle that.” Darcy scoffed, pouring the brownie batter into a pan. 

 

“It’ll be fuzzy.”

 

“Better than nothing.”

 

“JARVIS?” Tony asked. “What’re we looking at?” 

 

_ Of course Tony already had that calculation running. _

 

“Based on the available data,” JARVIS said, “I estimate the likelihood of Mr. Watney returning to Earth at anything up to 40%.”

 

“That high?”

 

“Humanity went from discovering the power inherent in the atom to space flight in less than twenty years,” JARVIS said. “Underestimating human innovation, in my opinion, is unwise.”

 

“Up to 40%,” Darcy murmured. “I can live with that.” She put down the brownie pan, then grabbed the counter, her knees going wobbly for a second. “He’s alive.” She grabbed the counter harder. “Oh my god. He’s alive.”

 

“Kid?” Tony was around the counter, peering at her like she was a zoo animal. 

 

“He’s actually alive,” Darcy said, “He’s alive and we thought he was dead - we gave him a funeral - two funerals, Tony! He’s alive…” she was clinging to the counter, fingers digging into the underside of the rolled stainless steel. “And the only thing worse than losing him once,” she whispered, “Is if I have to lose him again.”

 

She felt someone step up next to her, felt then put a hand put a hand between her shoulder blades.  _ Too small for Tony, _ she thought absently. 

 

“I hate to admit it,” Natasha drawled in her ear, “but if there's anyone to help get your Watney back from Mars, Tony’s the guy.” Darcy snorted. “And don't forget Dr. Foster and Dr. Selvig,” the Russian continued. “Even Yasha” her name for Barnes, “has two brain cells to rub together. And that's not to mention the people at NASA. They’re not all idiots, right?” Darcy chuckled and loosened her grip on the counter.  _ Ouch. _

 

“And then there are the other scientists scattered all over the world,” Natasha finished, letting her hand fall as Darcy made it back to standing, rubbing her hands - gripping the counter that hard had left her with red lines across her fingers that burned as she started to move them. “I won't say it's a certainty, but I do think it’s worth being a little but hopeful.”

 

“You think?” Darcy turned to give Natasha a suddenly blurry once-over. 

 

“I do,” she confirmed. “And if the Russian is saying it, it must be true. Now,” her eyes landed on the brownie pan behind Darcy. “Are those ready for the oven?” Darcy half-turned. 

 

“Oh. Yeah - they are. Put them in, if you like.”

 

Natasha smiled and pulled open the oven before nearly inserting the brownies. 

 

“Are you making anything else?” she asked. 

 

Darcy frowned. “Wasn't going to - we can, if you want to…” As soon as Darcy had started bake in the Avengers kitchen, she’d found Natasha watching her. After three weeks of silent observation, she’d finally plucked up the courage to ask the spy-sassin if she wanted to help. It turned out that Natasha was a serviceable cook, but that she’d never learned to bake, and Darcy had, bizarrely enough, found herself taking Natasha under her baking wing. 

 

“No, no, that's fine,” Natasha said. “Next time.” She grinned. “I was hoping we could do apple pie soon.”

 

“Pranking Steve, are you?” Darcy asked, and was rewarded by a grin. 

 

“Would I do such a thing?” Natasha looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Darcy was wise to that particular expression. 

 

“Yes,” she replied shortly. “You would. But I'll send you a recipe. Make sure we have the supplies for it and we’ll do it sometime this week, okay?”

 

Natasha nodded. “And you can leave the brownies to me. I'm guessing you want to make a few calls.”

 

_ Mindy, Venk, not to mention she should call both Bert and Caroline and Rich.  _ Darcy nodded 

 

“Twenty five minutes,” she reminded Natasha. “If you forget and they overcook, it's on your head.”

 

“Yes, Darcy.”

 

“I don't need Tony bitching at me again,” Darcy said, already out the door. “One cover is all you get.”

 

“Yes, Darcy.”

 

“For I am Darcy, purveyor of baked goods and all around domestic goddess.”

 

Natasha shouldn't have been able to hear Darcy anymore, let alone time her response, and yet, from the kitchen, two rooms away,

 

“Yes, Darcy.”

 


	18. Sol 62, Pt. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy starts a new trend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am *so* sorry it's taken me this long to post again. Life got.... abso-f*cking-lutely crazy. 
> 
> But I'm back now, come hell or high water, so let's get posting again!
> 
> Also, so many many thanks to everyone who's commented and left kudos while I've been off the reservation - you are all so very amazing, and I appreciate every single one of you!!!

“You’re proposing what, now?”

 

“Let me run the news segment,” Darcy repeated. “Produce it, anyway. I can make sure no blatant falsehoods get into the data, and with me working on the project, there’ll be one degree of separation from NASA.”

 

Sanders was mellowing to the idea. “And it won't interfere with your work with the Avengers?”

 

Darcy shook her head. “I've got assistants there if it does. Besides. The team doesn’t mind if this is my first priority right now.”  _ Meaning Tony and Steve practically shoved me into this meeting the moment I suggested it, _ Darcy thought. 

 

“And Annie ok’d it?” 

 

Darcy nodded. “She suggested someone be the direct liaison from the news to NASA. I volunteered.”

 

“Well, if you're sure,” Sanders said, still a bit dubious. 

 

“I'll be splitting my time between here and New York,” Darcy said, taking Sanders’ reluctant acceptance and running with it. “If there's something you want said, let me know. If there's something false, likewise, but I'll be running all the science past the people here and at JPL, so I don't expect any problems there. Annie’a setting me up with office space, and any people I want to have interviewed will go through her.”

 

“Seems like you've got it all figured out,” Sanders said drily. 

 

“I got out of the habit of presenting unresearched plans to higher-ups pretty quickly,” Darcy replied.  _ Sometime around when I stopped working for you and started helping Jane write her research grants. _

 

Sanders chuckled. “Well, you're authorised. What are you calling this thing, anyway. Does it have a name?”

 

“It does,” Darcy said, smiling. “Courtesy of Sargent Barnes. We’re calling it ‘Watney Watch’.”

 

 

……………..

 

“Welcome to Watney Watch,” the reporter said, smiling a mostly plastic smile at the camera. “I'm Cathy Warner, and on today’s show, we’ll be discussing exactly what Mark Watney’s life is like on Mars.” Dalton’s face deepened into a wider, faker smile. “Well, we’ll mostly be speculating, given that, as we all know, the only contact we currently have with Mark Watney is via satellite images.” 

 

The reporter looked miffed at having to add the clunky wording in, but Darcy had insisted on the disclaimer. The topic had been a good idea, but there was no way she was purposefully putting out hypotheses disguised as fact. “After the break, we’ll be talking with scientists from JPL, astronauts from the Ares I and II missions, and others to try and figure out how Mark Watney is spending his days. But for now, this is CNN.”

“And we’re clear,” the director said, and Cathy relaxed. She looked over at Darcy, who nodded at her. It was strange, to be the boss, or at least, one of the bosses, of something this big. Hell, Darcy even had one of those folding canvas chairs with her name on it…

 

_ Sometimes I think aliens were less bizarre than this. _

 

“How long are you planning on staying in Atlanta?” the director asked, coming over with his ever-present mini cup of coffee. Darcy always saw him with it, but never saw him drink. It was as if the thing was welded to his arm, and he just forgot about it.  _ He needs a minder too. But for once, that’s not in my job description.  _

 

“Until the end of the week,” Darcy said, gathering her thoughts away from the ways she’d get the director to stop carrying a half-empty espresso cup around everywhere. “I want to make sure everything runs smoothly. Then I’ll be in Houston for a week. Then New York. I’ll be reachable, though, and we’ve got those monthly visits planned.”

 

Darcy winced, thinking of all the flying she’d be doing. 

 

_ I guess it’s one way to rack up the frequent flyer miles. And there’s no way I’d actually take Tony and Pepper up on their offer to use the jet. Well, one of the jets.  _

 

“Thoughts so far?” the director asked, and Darcy quirked an eyebrow. She hadn’t pegged this guy as someone who wanted constructive criticism. He shrugged. “Hey, you’re the boss. Or at least, you’re the involved boss.”

 

“Guess so.” Darcy gave a shrug of her own. “Looks good so far. Honestly,” she looked at Rebecca. “I don’t care about the lighting, or the effects, or any of that. My job is to make sure the content is interesting, timely, and, more than anything else, true. If it’s fact, we call it fact, if it’s speculation, we say it’s speculation. At least three times.” That had been one of her rules. Because apparently the journalists here needed them. Anything that was purely hypothetical, or anything that wasn’t verifiable fact, was underlined as such once before it was said, once during, if the theory was long, and once afterwards. Hopefully that should stop the worst of the conspiracy theorists. 

 

_ Not that anything stops the conspiracy theorists. _

 

“Well, if there’s anything that seems off, let me know,” the director said.

 

Darcy’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her jacket pocket, glancing at the display. “I’m sorry, I need to take this,” she told the director, stepping away from the cameras. The director nodded and went back to behind the main camera, where a few black-clad people were fiddling with settings and wires.

 

“Yeah, Tony?” she asked, accepting the call. “What’s up?”

 

“You’re still in Atlanta?”

 

“At the studio - they’re filming tomorrow’s episode. Why?” Something in Tony’s voice was off. 

 

“Good. Good.” She heard a crash behind Tony. 

 

“Tony, what’s wrong?”

 

“Oh, nothing much,” Tony said, then there was a rush of static, and someone else grabbed the phone. 

 

_ And since when does Tony use a phone, anyway? He usually just calls me through JARVIS. _

 

Darcy was half-jogging towards the exit now, phone pressed firmly to her ear, as if that would help her hear anything more. 

 

“Darcy?” Jane sounded stressed. 

 

“Jane? Tell me what’s going on right now.”

 

“AIM managed to get a spy into SI, and they somehow shut down JARVIS. Tony says it’s temporary, but everyone’s on high alert, and we thought you should know.”

 

“Well, crap,” Darcy said, blowing through the doors and into the Atlanta humidity. “Does Tony have an idea of how long it’ll take before J’s back?”

 

“He has to do a full system-restore,” Jane said. “And then some major rewriting of the virus software - I gotta go - hold on-“

 

“Holding,” Darcy said, supremely frustrated as she waited for the next person to take the phone. 

 

_ I should be there, _ she thought.  _ Not futzing around with a stupid TV program. My friends are there and I can’t help them. Damn it.  _

 

“Darcy?” 

 

“Steve?” Darcy frowned at the super soldier’s taking the phone. 

 

“Are you secure?”

 

“What? I’m outside CNN,” she said, looking around. “Oh shit.”

 

“Tell me what you see.” 

 

“I’m assuming Sam’s with you and all of Tony’s suits are accounted for?” Darcy asked, jogging towards her rental.  _ I’m just glad I got the expensive insurance on this thing _ . 

 

“Yep. What do you see?”

 

“Three AIM suits incoming,” Darcy said. “I’m getting in my car now - putting you on speaker.” She juggled phone and car keys, managing to get her door open and the phone settled without dropping anything. 

 

“Darcy,” Steve started.

 

“There’s a building worth of civilians, Steve,” Darcy interrupted. “I’m not about to let them get caught in the crossfire. And I was outside anyway.”

 

She heard Steve’s long-suffering sigh and grinned as she floored the car out of the parking lot. “Just… get yourself as far from them as you can. Lose them in the city or something, ok? And stay on the line with me. I’ll get someone hacking their systems.”

 

“You got it, Cap.” Darcy swerved to avoid an oncoming car. “Keep me posted.” She accelerated some more, swerved left, and managed to squeak under the gate as it opened for a grey Dodge.

 

_ Guess this is what I get for missing home too much. _

 


	19. Sol 62, Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Super Squad, less AIMbots... All in a day's work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise. Again. 
> 
> I think I should stop trying to stick to an update schedule... :)   
> In any event, this and the chapter posting tomorrow are the last of the things I've got already written, so in any case, it might be a bit of a wait.
> 
> But thank you so much for the response to the last chapter! It means so much to this authorbeast!

“Ok. I’m hiding in a parking structure,” Darcy said, pulling into a space and taking the first deep breath in what felt like ages.

“We’ve got you on cameras,” Steve said. “The bots are looking for you - whoever’s controlling them doesn’t seem like he wants mass casualties.”

“Or she,” Darcy added automatically.

“Or she,” Steve agreed. A crash, then a yell sounded from behind him. Then, Jane shouted in triumph.

“They get somewhere?” Darcy asked, fingers tracing the leather of her steering wheel to keep herself busy.

“JARVIS is back up,” Jane shouted from what had to be the other side of the room. “Give us two minutes - we’ll help Bucky hack the AIMbots.”

“Wait what now?” Darcy shook her head. “You mean Sargent Tech-Savvy’s the one that’s been hacking the cameras for me?”

“Such ingratitude,” she heard Bucky say from further away, half-masked by Steve’s chuckle.

“He’s doing fine,” Jane said at a more normal volume. “Two minutes, Darcy. You ok holding on for that long?”

Darcy glanced towards the edge of the parking structure - she was loitering in the middle, as far away from direct line of sight as possible. “Should be,” she said. “Tell me how Barnes got into hacking.” If nothing else, the explanation should stop her from staring at her phone and watching the seconds tick by.

“Well,” Steve said. “I’m not really sure how it started - you were there when we showed him Google. And Youtube. And Tumblr. I still say that was a bad idea.”

“If you think _that’s_ the worst the Internet has to offer,” Darcy heard Barnes say distractedly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, jerk,” Steve shot back, and Darcy grinned. “Anyway. I get up one morning, and he’s using the laptop, typing away - turns out he spent the past two nights learning Python, and was coming up with code to wake him up if he looks like he’s having a nightmare.”

“Oh.”

“No shit.” She could hear exactly how much Steve didn’t like the fact that Bucky was still having nightmares. Screaming, bloody nightmares, if memory served, which left Bucky with scratches all down his real arm that took his serumed self a full day to heal. “Anyway. He went to Jane to debug it, and she sent him to Tony, who fixed the code, and then sent him to Pepper, who set him up with some courses. He’s been working through them ever since. I think it keeps him busy.”

“Speaking of busy,” Bucky said. “Feel free to take a look out the window anytime you like, doll.”

“Which direction?” Darcy asked.

“West - your right.” Bucky answered without even thinking about it. Darcy put the car in drive once more and accelerated to the edge of the parking structure. She arrived just in time to see the last of the AIM bots falling out of the sky, joints clearly red-hot, landing on an empty lot with a thunk.

“Nice work,” Darcy said. “Really stuck the landing there.”

“Glad you approve,” Bucky replied.

Darcy let out a long, slow breath, now the immediate threat was contained. “I guess I should get back to CNN,” she said. “I’m guessing they’ll be almost done shooting, but I can’t just disappear.”

“Call us after?” Jane said. It wasn’t a question.

“Aye, aye,” Dary replied, glancing at the clock. “Four hours or so?”

“We’ll be here. Stay safe, Darcy.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You too. Say happy re-birthday to J for me, huh?”

“You got it.” That was Steve. “Talk later.”

When she got back to the studio, twenty unhurried minutes of travel later, no one even noticed she’d been gone.


	20. Sol 70 - MARK

Hi Darcy,

Have you ever read the Hercule Poirot mysteries? Because Johansen has them in her media folder, and I’ve been working my way through them. ‘Little grey cells’ and all that. I think you’d like them. Or maybe you’d just like Agatha Christie.

Right now I’m stuck in the rover, waiting for my solar batteries to recharge. I’ve been doing missions - the Sirius missions, if NASA asks - and right now I’m on Sirius 3.

What were Sirius 1 and 2, you ask? Well, in the quest to get yours truly back to Earth, or, in this case, as far as Ares 4, I need to use the rovers. Which require power. So I spent a day hauling a few of the solar batteries from around the Hab and jury-rigging them on to the Rover. Which worked. Until I had the stellar idea to try and drive without the heater on, to save the energy from the batteries for actually moving the Rover.

Imagine you’re in Tromso again. And then subtract a few degrees. I feared for our future offspring.

Instead of killing myself in the cold, I’ve now decided to irradiate myself.

The RTG, which, as you remember, is basically just a hunk of Plutonium-238, and was the MAV’s power source until we got here and set up the Hab, is going to be my heat source.

When I get home, I might be glowing orange. Just warning you.

At least it’s not green. No need to have two green men in your life, huh?

Which makes me wonder. How’s life in the Tower? Has anyone tried to take over the world lately? I thought that happened twice a month… Which, by my extremely accurate math, means about three Avengers call-outs. Hope you’re ok. I’m assuming Captain Fantastic and Sargent Awesome are keeping you safe. And He of the Goatee. And Doc Foster. If she ever gets her head out of her research.

Hey - did the Avengers come to my funeral? That’d be cool.

Anyway. I’m here, watching batteries charge. Like watching paint dry, but more boring. 12 hours charging for 81 kilometres, which took me just under three and a half hours.

That’ll do.

Tomorrow, I’m headed back to the Hab, where I’ll prep for Sirius 4. That’s a longer journey - 20 days all told - my real trial run for the trek to the Ares 4 site.

But for now, I return to Poirot. And Hastings.

Of the two of us, who is who, I wonder? I think I have to be Poirot. If only because I look better with a moustache than you do.

Sorry, princess.

Love you,

Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning - this is the last chapter I have ready - the wait for the next one might be a while. But, in case I get it done before next Monday, I had a question:
> 
> Would you like me to post the chapters as I write them, or try and stick to an update schedule?


	21. Day 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Darcy's work is never done...

“No, Jane, you need to get some rest,” Darcy said into the phone. “I don’t care what the other scientists are doing. You’ve been up for 30 hours. Get some sleep, at least six hours, and get back to the scienc-ing later.”

“But Darcy!”

“No buts,” Darcy said. “Don’t make me get on a plane.”

Jane sighed noisily. “Okay fine.”

“JARVIS is locking you out in five minutes, ok?” Darcy informed her friend. “Finish up what you need to finish up, then get some rest.”

Another sigh. “I hate you.”

“I love you too, bestie.”

“Bye, Darcy. Talk to you later.”

“Sleep first!” Darcy ended the call and sighed herself. Scientist wrangling wasn’t technically even in her job description anymore. But if anyone could stop Jane Foster from trying to keep up with the over caffeinated, fresh out of college engineers at JPL without physically dragging her out of the lab, it was Darcy.

“Thanks for doing that,” Bucky said, voice rumbling rather closer to Darcy than she remembered him being. “She was gonna wake up in a day or two and be steaming mad that the other scientists had made all those discoveries without her.”

“Burnout is real,” Darcy agreed. “Although in this case, it’s more a case of Jane working herself to the point of exhaustion. ‘The mind is strong, but the body is weak,’” she quoted.

“‘Or lacking caffeine,’” Bucky completed the quote with a smile.

“You know, you’d be a great scientist wrangler in your own right,” Darcy said slowly.

“No.” Darcy looked up at the super soldier, doing her best to embody all that was sweetness and light. With a side of ‘I can take care of myself, thank you very much’. “I’m not leaving you here all on your own.”

“I’m not on my own,” Darcy protested. “Bert and Caroline are here.”

“And when they can protect you from a Doombot or something from AIM, your argument will have a leg to stand on,” Bucky said.

Darcy grumbled, but secretly, or not so secretly, based on Bucky’s particular brand of shit-eating grin, she was glad the soldier was there. If only so she had a member of her adopted family with her while she was in Houston.

“Miss Lewis?” an assistant came over holding an open laptop. “The edit of the interview with Doctor Shields is here for your approval.” The boy looked very young - Darcy would have guessed fresh out of high school, if she didn’t know better.

_I’m getting old._

Darcy snorted inwardly at her own ridiculousness, and took the laptop.

“Thank you, Mark,” she told the assistant. “I’ll watch it now.”

“Shields?” Bucky asked as the assistant scurried off.

“Psychiatrist,” Darcy made a face. Bucky mimicked her. “Let’s see what she had to say.”

Not five minutes later, Darcy was torn between the urge to burst out laughing and a strong desire to strangle Doctor Shields with her bare hands.

“Darcy?” Bucky’s voice startled Darcy out of her reverie.

“Huh?” she said, intelligently.

“You don’t think…” Bucky said.

“That she’s right? That Mark will get lonely enough, get depressed enough to kill himself?” Darcy asked, scorn clear on her face. “No. Mark wouldn’t do that. He’s even more stubborn than me. And he keeps his promises.” She realised she was twisting her engagement ring, back and forth, back and forth. _Even if we won’t have a spring wedding._ “To suggest he’d use the morphine in the ship’s stores? I could have gone forever without thinking about that one.” Darcy shivered, just once.

“You know him better than she does,” Bucky said, although he still looked skeptical.

“Damn straight.” Darcy’s shoulders squared and her chin went up. “He’s died on me once. He doesn’t get to do that again.”

Bucky frowned at the laptop. “So, are you going to kill the segment?”

Darcy’s shoulders drooped back to their normal setting. “I don’t think I can,” she said. “I said I’d kill any lies. Not opinions I don’t agree with. Even if I think Doctor Shields is as correct as the Flat Earth movement.”

Bucky chuckled. “Whatever you say, doll.”

“Exactly.” Darcy grinned at Bucky. “Whatever I say. And what I say is that we finish up here, grab Bert and Caroline, and go out for BBQ. Thoughts?”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” Bucky saluted with all the polish he could muster - which wasn’t much, being honest - and turned his attention back to his own laptop. Thor only knew what he was doing on there. It could be writing code to help with rocket trajectories, it could be watching the latest Adventure Time episode…

 

 


	22. Sol 72 (or 73)

“Darcy? What are you doing here?” Mindy looked fresh as a daisy, three hours into her overnight watch of Mars - and Mark.

Darcy… didn’t. She'd made the mistake of glancing at her reflection in the glassed back entrance to Johnson. Her hair was falling out of its bun, her face shiny, and the bags under her eyes were definitely checked baggage size.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Darcy lingered in the doorway. “Mind if I come and keep you company? I’ve got a stowaway.” She jerked a thumb at Bucky, who was loitering at her shoulder as always.

“Come on in,” Mindy said, brightening at the thought of company. Although whether it was Darcy’s or Bucky’s was anyone’s guess. “Why can't you sleep?”

Darcy shrugged. “Haven't been sleeping much since the news - since both sets of news really. And now - now I can do something…”

Mindy nodded. “Seems fair. Want me to get you set up with some computers? You can go over the latest sat data if you want?”

“Could I?” The thought of seeing Mark, of watching him in real time - or as real time as she could get - was irresistible.

“Wouldn’t have offered if you couldn’t,” Mindy said. “C’mon, pull up a chair. You too, Barnes.” Darcy left her bag by the door and toed off her heels for good measure. If she couldn’t relax around Mindy, with whom she’d gone on coding binges and shared the extra hot Cheetos, she couldn’t relax around anyone. Extra hot Cheetos were sacred.

Five minutes later, and Darcy was leaning back, feet propped next to one of the mainframes, watching the pictures from the latest satellite pass load.

“See that there?” Mindy said, pointing to a spot that Darcy would have assumed was a fleck of white on the lens and a puff of smoke. “That’s Mark - he’s going on another trip, looks like.”

“He’s been making a lot of those,” Darcy murmured, staring at the dot intently. The screen flickered, and the next image pulled up. “Probably joking about being some kind of space buccaneer - he always did want to be the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

“Don’t tell me he tried to call you Princess Buttercup,” Bucky joked.

Darcy snorted. “He tried. Once. I informed him that I was a self-rescuing princess, thank you very much, but if he wanted, he could help carry my fridge the next time I moved.”

Bucky and Mindy laughed. “I can’t wait to meet this guy, doll,” Bucky said over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, willing herself to not think about the insurmountable odds of actually getting Mark home. Instead, she started to think about Bucky and Mark in the same room. “Alternately, how about no. I don’t think any of us would survive.” She glanced at Mindy, who was back at her computer, grinning at the screen. “Hey Mindy, how long do you think it would take before either Mark or Bucky would come up with some crazy idea that would lead to me having to do masses of paperwork for three months?”

Mindy glanced up at Darcy, then looked at Bucky, considering for a few seconds. “Ten minutes? Fifteen?”

Darcy nodded. “Sounds about right.” She returned her attention to Bucky. “So, no, sorry. No meeting the fiancé for you. Planet Earth couldn’t take it.”

Bucky chuckled, and Darcy felt her eyelids begin to slip closed even as she returned her concentration to the screen in front of her.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired, because she was.

There was just so much to take care of. She had Watney Watch to take care of, Jane to manage,

ride herd on Tony so he didn’t piss off the entirety of JPL,

take care of Bert and Caroline,

…

find time to eat,

….

…

send memos to Sanders

…

…

…

 

Darcy fell asleep to pictures of the Red Planet, head lolling gently on her office chair.

“Should I move her?” Bucky whispered to Mindy, not at all minding the excuse to get closer to the scientist.

“She’ll just wake up,” Mindy replied, just as quietly. “Let her sleep. Here - I have some more programming for you to look at - I want to change the satellite paths slightly, but the software’s buggy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky said, settling back into his chair and watching as a blush swept over the blonde scientist’s cheek.


End file.
